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RUSTLINGS IN THE EOCKIES 



HUNTING AND FISHING 



BY MOUNTAm AKD STREAM. 



(COQUINA.) 




CHICAGO: 
BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. 

1883. 



COPYRIGHTED. , 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. 
1883. 



fl3^ 



Printed and Boun'i by Honohuf, & Hennebebry, Chicago. 



]-^^t'^o^i 



INTEODUCTIOK 



As the author is so well known to American sportsmen 
through his contributions to the American Field, it is not 
necessary that I should commend the book to their considera- 
tion. 

Being in favor of educating that portion of the public 
who are not sportsmen to the importance of healthy outdoor 
sports as the surest and best method of securing and main- 
taining good health, and believing that sketches such as this 
book contains contribute most forcibly to this end, by creating 
a desire to participate in such scenes and pleasures as they 
recount, it is, therefore, to the general reader that I commend 
this book. 

Not physically only, but mentally also, are outdoor sports 
invigorating ; and rapidly are the people realizing what the 
greatest savans have long since realized : mens sana iii corpore 
sano. 

Satisfied that the protection and propagation of game 
birds, game animals and game fishes, apart from an economic 
point of view, demand the attention of the people as afford- 
ing the facilities for the maintenance of health and repairing 
overworked bodies and brains, I look upon a book like this, 
which treats of the pleasures of the gun, rifle or rod in a 
most entertaining manner, as a missionary sent out to en- 

V 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

lighten a people on the healthful recreation they know not of, 
and enlist them in the protection of game and fish which 
unwittingly they may have been aiding the destruction of. 

The author has had the experience necessary to furnish 
material for interesting sketches; and being an ardent advo- 
cate of the protection of game and fish during the close sea- 
son, and opposed to the wanton slaughter of them during the 
open season, I again commend this book. 

N. ROWE, 
Editor '^American Field." 

Chicago, Febraary 15, 1883. 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

Clark's Fork — Mr. Allen — Frontier yarns — Rogers didn't want to 
be killed by a buffalo — "Why didn't you catch the bull by the 
tail?" — Hiram Stewart's narrow escape — Twenty years in the 
mountains and never so near death 9 

CHAPTER 11. 

THE PARTY ORGANIZED. 

Mike mashed — Sawyer and his pony play circus — Sawyer's wander- 
ings in mid-air — Terra-firma at last — A chase after Sawyer's 
pony — Allen wants him to "buck some more" — The Ca5aise 
submits to the argument of clubs — Sawyer declines the hurricane 
deck for the future — Supper on mountain trout 18 

CHAPTER HI. 

ON THE WAY TO WYOMING. 

Indian's question, " Shostida ? " — Huffman in camp — Agrees to join 
us — A fine doe ! but Huffman has my gun — A day on Bennett 
creek — Allen in luck — Huffman curses his Kennedy pea- 
slinger — Nothing but " woodchuck " — Universal dampness — 
The luck turns 26 

CHAPTER IV. 

MEDITATIONS IN A WICIUP. 

Philosophy in a tent — " Me t-r-r-rusty rifle" — Away from the ills of 
life — Elk-heart and hard tack for breakfast — The peroration of 
a donkey's bray — Wapiti winds his horn — The Monarch of the 
Rockies dies as a king should die 36 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 
A PERILOUS EXPERIENCE. 

Three bears anxious for gore — The company rattled — We try the 
effect of noise and bluster — The grizzlys retire — Mike arouses 
the anger of an old she-bear — A race for life — Huffman and I 
to the rescue — Two out of three killed — A fine view of the 
Rockies — More sport — The camp broken up — We start for 
home 43 

CHAPTER VI. 

IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

Away to the mountains — The Red River valley — A garden in the 
desert — From Bismarck to Glendive — The bad lands on the 
Little Missouri — " Hell with the fire out" — Four hundred and 
seventy-three bridges in two hundred and twenty-one miles — 
A drive up the Yellowstone — Butchers and buffaloes — A word 
of warning — Off" to the Big Horn. 50 

CHAPTER VII. 

IN THE YELLOWSTONE VALLEY. 

How I shot a duck — An August thunder-storm — Menu for an epi- 
cure — Rosebud River — An old battle ground — Lame Deer 
creek — Custer's last camping ground — Scaring a coyote — Dog- 
in-the-manger meanness of Crow Indians • • 57 

CHAPTER VIII. 

AT THE FORKS OF THE ROSEBUD. 

Good luck with the grouse — Interviewed by a Crow scout — First 
sight of the Big Horn mountains — Three deer killed with four 
shots, "deuced clevah! " — Fanning the coyotes — All loaded 
forbear — Killed, but lost after all — Wet groceries for break- 
fast 65 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUND. 

Huffman kills a grizzly — A night in wet blankets — A race for the 
axe — Grand sport — Hunting through the snow — Effectiveness 
of the explosive bullet 74 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER X. 

THROUGH THE CANYON OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN. 

An adventure with Nig — The photographic outfit in peril — Hufifman 

frantic — Nig lands the cargo safely — Hufifman grumbles, I phi- i 
losophize — A herd of mule deer — Growths of pine timber — 
Fine sport with a mountain buffalo — The ideal hunter's camp. 82 

CHAPTER XI. 

A GRAND day's SPORT. 

An exciting chase — A leap for life — All a man wants is " sand " — 
Over the mountain wall — The chase grows interesting — An- 
other leap for life — I follow my leader — Run to cover at last — 
I drink to the memory of the departed — More sport — Old planti- 
grade and her cubs — Loaded for bear — The whole family 
killed — Home to camp 93 

CHAPTER XH. 

A BUSY DAY. 

Scoring a miss — Huffman photographs a scene — Shakspeare in the 
mountains — A grizzly " rustling for chuck " — A race for life — 
Bruin falls — A severe attack of punning — Butter side down — 
A herd of elk — More sport. 103 

CHAPTER XHI. 

FROM CUSTER TO KEOUGH. 

In the Big Horn range — The Black Canyon — A perilous descent — 
Jack loaded for bear — Bear loaded for Jack — Huffman's trail — 
Scaling a mountain wall — Custer's grave — Up the Big Porcu- 
pine — Flagging the antelope — Antelopes as curious as women 
— No country like the Big Horn for sport 115 

CHAPTER XIV. 

TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

Montana a veritable wonderland — Sport from the baggage car — 
Alkali beds near Crystal Springs — " Why did your aunt elope ? " 
— Resolved to kill a buffalo or get scalped — Judge Souther — In 
luck — In the Custer valley — "Young Man's Butte" — Cus- 
ter's lookout! — Prairie dogs — Bad lands — Too bad to be' 
described 126 



Xll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XV. 

LIFE ON THE PLAINS. 

Courtesies of railroad and military officers — Living on the fat of the 
land — The cuisine of the Palmer House eclipsed — Sport that 
is sport — A pet fawn — A sight for Landseer — Lieutenant 
McCoy — Spike-tailed Republicans — A banquet in the wilder- 
ness — Buzzing a sentinel — A yarn of Indian scouts — '' Soldier 
heap damn lazy ! " — Back to my virtuous couch 136 

CHAPTER XVL 

AFTER THE BUFFALOES. 

We Start well equipped — Camp at Beaver creek — The antelope hard 
to kill — Dr. Black " all broke up " — Takes his supper standing — 
Good morning's sport — A breakfast fit for the gods — Buffaloes 
at last — "Let them have it" — The buffaloes take a good deal 
of killing — Sharp's rifles 145 

CHAPTER XVIL 

TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND BUFFALOES. 

Small herds of buffaloes — The great herd — An early morning hunt — 
" Old rehable " — Charges a buffalo — My first buffalo lies dead 
at my feet — Back to camp — Corporal Brown counsels caution — 
Startled by white men — My buffalo weighs fourteen hundred 
pounds. 153 

CHAPTER XVHL 

THROUGH AN EXTINCT HELL ! 

Another herd of buffaloes — An unusual experience — A grand leap 
for life — Pursuing the herd — Back through the bad lands — 
Black-tail deer — Still after the buffaloes — Defeated — More 
sport — Close quarters — The bison yields — The hunt is up. .161 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

Jacksonville — A city of orange groves — On board the "Pastime" 
— Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's winter home — Hibernia — Mag- 
nolia — Palatka — "There's an alligator" — Fine sport — Lake 
George — Manhattan — William Astor's orange grove — An alli- 
gator thirty feet long — Dr. Spalding's trout — St. Augustine, the 
oldest city in the United States 171 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 

Off for Sarasota Bay — A royal kingfish landed on deck — A white 
cloth bait — A heron rookery — Mr. Moore a real deer-slayer — 
Varieties of fish — Tampa — Dr. J. P. Wall — Five hundred and 
fifty acres of orange trees — A grand chance for settlers — 8,000,000 
oranges a year — Grand resort for invalids 182 

CHAPTER XXI. 

snead's island. 

Great schools of mullet — Solid acres of fish — Snead's Islahd a grand 
fishery — ''There's millions in it" — We "smole" audibly — 
On board the " Skylark " — The mangrove — Mr. Webb — A 
paradise for botanists — Century plants in bloom — Fishing — 
Mackerel sixteen inches long, vi^eighing three pounds. . . .190 

CHAPTER XXII. 

ON BOARD THE "SKY-LARK." 

"Shall Auld Acquaintance be Forget?" — Capt. O. C. Squyer — Sea 
trout — Thirsting for the blood of a "'gator" — Our desire thor- 
oughly satisfied — We begin to hanker after shark — Sharks and 
sand-flies — A Jew-fish caught weighing one hundred and fifty- 
three pounds — Preparing for a fire -hunt — My first fire-hunt. . . 200 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

DEER-STALKING AND FIRE-FISHING. 

The mule element strong in me — " Walking by faith, not by sight " — 
In search of alligators — A fight between an eagle and a fish- 
hawk — A two-year-old doe starts from the thicket — I fire, Rover 
starts on the chase — I carry home my prize — Fire - fishing — 
Sheepshead — Needle-fish mullet — A hundred pounds of fish in 
three hours — We catch an inquisitive shark 210 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

FOUR DAYS ON THE MYAKKA RIVER. 

The camping ground of Coughpennslough — The " Palmeeter cab- 
bage" — The sportman's paradise — I become pious — Satan to the 
front — A mossy bed — Ta-whoo-00-oo-ah — "Gobble, gobble, 
gobble" — The woods alive with squirrels — The bounding buck — 
A flock of turkeys — Roseate spoonbills — The sad words " good- 
bye." 210 



XIV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

WORDS OF ADVICE TO TOURISTS TO FLORIDA. 

Expenses of a trip — Must call at St. Augustine — Bring your gun and 
rifle — Provide plenty of ammunition — Don't forget shark 
tackle — Take a small tent — A light rubber coat and a heavy 
blanket — The only foot-gear needed is a pair of cowhide shoes — 
Take also some simple medicines — Quinine — Calomel — The 
expenses of the journey small 234 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

RECOLLECTIONS OF BOYHOOD. 

Back to the old home — The Barrett boys — The old schoolhouse — 
Hail, gentle robin — The old fence corner — The churchyard — 
The snow-ball conflicts 242 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE DAYS OF LONG AGO. 

My dog and I — Ring and the hogs — Woodchuck hunting — Old Ring ! 
"Though lost to sight to memory dear" — All is changed — Old 
memories crowd upon me — The old landmarks gone ! — The old 
spring — There is a time for tears. . , " 252 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

TROUTING ON THE NAMECAGON. 
Mr. T. S. Powers a typical sportsman — The village of Cable — Out in 

the stream — Multitudes of trout — Mosquito creek 261 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

PIKE AND BASS FISHING ON LONG LAKE. 
An afternoon's catch, 180 pounds of fish! — Leroy and the pollywogs 
top the Narrows — Hunting a loon — "You've got a whale, 
sure" — An enormous pickerel — Three days' catch, 620 pounds — 
Home again 267 

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE LAKE SUPERIOR REGION. 

From Marquette to Duluth — A mild winter — A crowd in " Mackinaw 
flannel" — The lumber interests — Fisheries — Brook trout — Ducks 
and geese in season — Little hunting — Trout lake — A charming 
location for sportsmen. 275 



CONTENTS. 3tV 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

AUTUMN RAMBLINGS IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN. 

Among the Wolverines — Off to the Twin lakes — My " hunter's pet " — 
Through the pine forests — One shot and one miss — A pack of 
wolves — Hiding-places of the bear — A shot at a deer — On board 
the " Northern Belle." 284 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE ISLAND OF MACKINAC. 

The Straits of Mackinac — The perfect transparency of the water — 
Purity of the atmosphere — Antidote for hay fever — Fort Macki- 
nac — The Astor house — The enchanting isle — Souvenirs — The 
captain's dream — Pelican lake — An aqua incognita — The home ^- 
of the mighty muscalonge 295 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 

Enchanting scenery — A sudden shot — I fall asleep — An awful 
awakening — Hand-to-hand fight with a grizzly — "Hold the 
fort" — A swarm of mosquitoes — A terrific slaughter. . . . 301 



ILLUSTEATIOE"S. 



Our Camp in the Foot-Hills {Frontispiece) 

He didn't want to be Killed by a Buffalo 13 

Saved by a Lucky Shot 16 

A Decided Mash 19 

On the Home-stretch 22 

A Day on Bennett Creek 29 

'• This is How We Got 'Em " t,t, 

The Monarch of the Rockies 41 

United in Death 46 

Huffman's Prize 78 

The Rage of Huffman and the Calmness of " Nio" 83 

After the Race 90 

The Dead Grizzly 107 

Butter Siete Down 109 

Skinning the Elk 113 

Jack Loaded for Bear 117 

Bear Loaded for Jack - 119 

Flagging an Antelope 1 23 

The Round Up 124 



vii 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 



CHAPTER I. 

RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

CLARK'S FORK — MR. ALLEN — FRONTIER YARNS — ROGERS DIDN'T WANT 
TO BE KILLED BY A BUFFALO — "WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THE BULL 
BY THE TAIL?-' — HIRAM STEWART'S NARROW ESCAPE — TWENTY 
YEARS IN THE MOUNTAINS AND NEVER SO NEAR DEATH. 

After a pleasant journey of eighteen hours over the Chi- 
cago, Milwaukee & St. Paul railroad from Milwaukee to St. 
Paul, and another of forty-eight hours over the Northern 
Pacific from_^. Paul, we arrived on the first day of Septem- 
ber at the famous town of Billings, Montana, at that time the 
temporary terminus of the Northern Pacific road, I at once 
sought the quarters of my old friend Major Bell, of the 7th 
Cavalry, who was camped near the station, but was sadly dis- 
appointed to learn that he was under orders to go to Bozeman 
in a few days, and could not therefore join me in a hunt. 
He had given four of his men permission, however, to start 
the next morning for a five days' hunt in the Pryors Mountain 
country, thirty-five miles distant, and kindly offered me a 
mount if I desired to go with them ; but as this would not be 
as long a trip as I wanted to make, I decided to decline his 
offer and go with some friends who had gone out with me. 
On the following day,, therefore, I met them in Coulson, two 
miles from Billings, and we arranged for a three weeks' trip 
into the mountains toward the head of Clark's Fork. 



10 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

During the time of making preparations for our start we 
were entertained in a most enjoyable manner by Mr, William 
Allen and his accomplished wife. 

Mr. Allen is a capital story teller and a fine actor. He is 
an old timer on the frontier, and in his varied experience has 
passed through some strange adventures. He gave us some 
choice selections from these the first evening we were there, 
which, if they could be reproduced here with all his actions, 
gestures and points, would furnish fun tor the readers of this 
book for a year to come. I will repeat one or two of them 
as nearly in substance as possible, but they will lack the unc- 
tion and action with which he delivered them. 

Some years ago, when living on his ranch ten miles above 
Coulson, he was subpoenaed to serve on the grand jury which 
was to meet at Miles City. A neighbor named Wm. Rogers, 
hearing that he was going to Miles, called on him and requested 
permission to go with him. Mr. Allen gladly accepted his 
company, and it was arranged that they should start early the 
next morning, and go down the river in a skiff. When they 
got all their traps on board it was discovered that neither of 
them had provided a gun, Mr. A.'s gun being out of order 
and Mr. R. having lately sold his. They talked the matter 
over, and it looked like a risky piece of business to start on a 
voyage like this of a hundred and fifty miles down the Yel- 
lowstone river, through a country where they were liable to 
be jumped by hostile reds, without a gun in the boat. 
Besides, there was plenty of game along the river, and it' 
would be extremely provoking not to be able to shoot any of 
it, even though it should walk over them. But what should 
be done? Neither of them had a firearm of any kind, not 
even a revolver, that was serviceable, and it would be difficult 
to borrow one for so long a time, so they decided to do the 
only thing to be done under the circumstances — go unarmed. 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROClClES. 11 

Now this Rogers is a great '^ blow," and is always boasting 
what he would do and how valiantly he would fight if 
corralled by Indians ; how he would stand his ground and 
shoot any bear to death that ever roamed the mountains, 
before he would run ; how he would not be afraid to ride 
into a herd of buffaloes anywhere on the plains and slaughter 
dozens of them, and would not be afraid of getting eaten up 
by them either, and all that sort of stuff. 

On their cruise down the river, Rogers regaled Allen with 
accounts of how he would grapple with any Indian, or other 
wild animal, that should dare to molest them, single handed, 
and kill or put them to rout. Yes, he was a valiant son of 
Mars ! Well, it happened on the second day of their voyage, 
as they were floating quietly along, they saw several old 
buffalo bulls moving down a trail that led down the side of a 
steep bluff, and ordinarily between the bluff and the water's 
edge, to a point farther up the stream where it led out again. 
But at this time the water was high and the trail at the foot 
of the bluff was submerged. The bulls didn't discover this 
fact until they got to the water, and then they were on a part 
of the trail that was so narrow, and the bluff, both above and 
below them was so precipitous, that they could not turn 
around, leaving them no alternative but to plunge into the 
river and swim out. 

By this time Allen and his valiant co-voyageur were along- 
side of the bulls. Allen had the oars. '' Now," said Rog- 
ers, ''when they jump into the water you run the boat right 
in amongst them, and I'll catch one of them by the tail, pull 
him down stream until we drown him, and we'll have some 
fresh meat, and be darned to the guns." 

''AH right!" replied Allen; "they've jumped into the 
water, and by the great Sault Ste Marie the water is over 
their backs. They're swimming already. Look ! they are 



1^ RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

making for the other shore, and are going to cross right in 
front of us. '' Well, here goes for a big bull. Now Rogers, 
grab a tail." 

And with two or three powerful strokes of the oars he 
shot the skiff right in amongst the terrified beasts who were 
making the angry flood boil all around them in their frantic 
efforts to get away. But when Rogers, this mighty hunter, 
this stalwart slayer of grizzlies, this terror of Canyon Creek, 
this red-handed Indian slayer, came to face the music, he 
weakened ; he turned pale, and his knees knocked together. 

'^Get out of here, quick! " he cried in terror; I don't 
want to catch one of them old cusses, he'll jump right plum 
into the boat if I do, and drownd us." 

''Oh, no, he won't!" shouted Allen. '*Grab one 
quick. What's the mater with you? " 

•'•'Get out of here, quick, I say," pleaded the terror- 
stricken terror of Canyon Creek. 

"Well here," replied Allen, "you take the oars then, and 
ni catch one." 

"No, I won't," answered Rogers. "Pull out of here 
quick, for God's sake. I don't want to be killed by a cussed 
old buffalo bull." And so there was no recourse for Allen 
but to pull out, and leave the bulls to pursue their way in 
peace. 

" Well," remarked Rogers, after they had gone some dis- 
tance down the river, and he had recovered his breath, "did 
you ever see such frightful lookin' critters in your life as 
them bulls was? Why, they was just a puffen' and a snorten' 
like an old steamboat, and their nostrils was jest as red inside 
as two coals of fire, and their eyes was as big as a tin cup, 
and they looked like they had just been varnished. And 
their tails stuck up and spread out till they looked just like 
parasols. As sure as you live, Allen, if we'd ever 'a ketched 



14 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

one of them bulls by the tail, he'd 'a jumped right into the 
boat and killed us both." 

Allen has never got through laughing over that adventure 
yet, and to this day whenever Rogers goes to blowing about 
what he would do under certain circumstances, somebody 
asks him, '' Well, why didn't you catch the buffalo bulls by 
the tail ? and then he collapses, and has nothing more to say 
to that crowd. 

On another occasion Allen told us he was out hunting 
with old Hiram Stewart, a noted hunter and trapper, who had 
spent more than half his life in the mountains, and had killed 
more bears and other large animals probably than he had 
hairs on his head. It was in May. As they were crossing a 
coulee one day, in which the brush grew thick, and in which 
there remained some patches of old snow, they saw where 
the ground had been disturbed. Passing along, they saw a 
hole in one of the snowdrifts, which looked as if some one 
had set down a coffee sack full of rocks. But there was a row 
of such holes, and on further examination they were forced 
to conclude that they had discovered a bear track, and the 
largest one, they both agreed, that they had ever seen. 
They followed the trail to where it led into a dense jungle of 
box elder, water beech, rose bushes, etc., at the head of the 
coulee. 

They walked around this, and seeing no trail leading out 
of it, concluded the bear must be in there. They threw 
rocks and clubs into the ticket to start him out, but he would 
not start. Then Allen got down on his hands and knees, 
and pushing his gun ahead of him, crawled in. He could 
not see any bear, but after he got in about twenty feet he 
heard such an unearthly growl as convinced him at once that 
the outside air would be healthier for him, and slid out 
backward, much faster than he went in. Then old Hi. said 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 15 

he would go in. Allen told him he had better not, but he 
would not listen to caution and crawled in. He had not 
gone far when he met the old leviathan coming out, and 
raising his rifle, took a hasty aim and fired. This ball entered 
the bear's breast and knocked him down, but Hi. saw at once 
that he was not dead, and attempted to throw the shell out of 
his rifle. But an accident to a gun almost invariably happens 
just at the most critical moment. Or, if a fellow ever pulls 
the wrong trigger, it is sure to be when the fine shot are 
in that barrel, and the buckshot in the other, and the deer 
gets away again. Joe's shell stuck in the chamber of his 
rifle, and refused to budge. He knew he had no time to fool 
away in swearing at his bad luck, so he slid out just as fast as 
the nature of the ground would permit, but before he got out 
the bear had recovered from the effects of the shot sufficiently 
to get up and start after him. Hi. wore an old buckskin suit 
that had been in the service for years, and that was so stiff 
from having been daubed with blood, grease, molasses and 
other animal and vegetable matter that he could take it off 
and lean it up against a tree, and it would stand there until 
he wanted it again, just the same as if he were in it. He was 
sadly handicapped in this race by a game leg that was about 
two inches shorter than the other, and when he got out of the 
thicket there was not a tree in reach large enough to climb, 
so he started up the hill side with the bear at his heels, 
growling and roaring at every jump, and Hi. yelling 
" Murder, save me, shoot him, kill him quick." 

Allen said the spectacle was so ridiculous that had it been 
his own funeral instead of Hi's, that was coming off so soon, 
he must have laughed all the same. Notwithstanding Hi's 
old coat was as stiff as a shingle, it stood out behind until 
you could have played billards on it, if the bear hadn't been 
in your way. At every jump Hi. made he would careen over 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. ll 

toward the side his game leg was on, just as a chair goes over 
when one leg falls out of it. Finally Allen braced up so that 
he could shoot, and turned his Winchester loose on the 
grizzly. The first shot caught him behind the shoulder, and 
the second in the neck, but he paid no attention to them 
more than to stop and scratch the spot with his paw, and 
then go on after Hiram. But the third shot, fortunately, caught 
him at the butt of the ear, and dropped him in his tracks. 

By this time Hi. had reached the ledge of rocks that he 
had started for at first, and which he thought would save him. 
He had just grasped a thin shelf that stuck out, to pull himself 
p by, but it broke off, and let him fall to the ground just as 
the bear dropped, and in his death struggle he caught Joe 
with one of his hind feet and threw him more than twenty 
eet down the hill. Joe gathered himself up, rubbed the mud 
off his face and hands, felt of arms and legs to see that they 
were all_ whole, looked at the great monster, which now lay 
dead, and as soon as he could recover his breath enough to 
speak, said, as he shook with terror from head to foot : 
"Great God, twenty-five years in the mountains, and I never 
cum as near gettin' killed as that." 

He laid down on the ground, and it was more than an 
hour before he was able to walk. Allen said his face was as 
white as the snow in the coulee, excepting the space around 
his eyes, and that was yellow. Poor old Hiram never recovered 
from this terrible shock, and died a year afterward. Several 
who knew him claim that the scare was the direct cause of 
the sickness that ended his life. He was a mental and phy- 
sical wreck from that time to the day of his death. Allen 
took from the bear one hundred and eighty-seven pounds of 
oil, and his skin when stretched and staked out on the ground 
measured over nine feet wide by ten and a half in length. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PARTY ORGANIZED. 

MIKE MASHED — SAWYER AND HIS PONY PLAY CIRCUS — SAWYER'S 
WANDERINGS IN MID-AIR — TERRA-FIRMA AT LAST — A CHASE AFTER 
sawyer's pony — ALLEN WANTS HIM TO " BUCK SOME MORE " — 
THE CAYUSE SUBMITS TO THE ARGUMENT OF CLUBS — SAWYER 
DECLINES THE HURRICANE DEC:: FOR THE FUTURE — SUPPER ON 
MOUNTAIN TROUT. 

We completed our arrangements for the hunt, and start- 
ing from Billings on Sunday evening, September 3, rode to 
Ed Forest's ranch at Canyon creek, ten miles west of 
Billings, and camped for the night. Our party as now 
organized, consisted of Mr. Allen and his son Willie, of 
Coulson ; R. J. Sawyer and M. Weise, of Menominee, Michi- 
gan ; '' Doctor " J. W. Trinler, of Coulson, our teamster, the 
most worthless, unmitigated vagabond that ever any hunting 
party was afflicted with, and '' the undersigned." Mr. Allen 
was mounted on a bay complexioned cayuse that had blood 
in his eye, as we shall presently see. I had procured a tough, 
good-natured, ambitious little black pony, and the other 
members of the party were mounted on — the wagon. 

After an hour's ride Allen offered to change seats with 

either of the boys in the wagon. Weise eagerly accepted the 

offer, and mounted the bay pony, which made no objection at 

the time, but a close observer might have seen by his eye that 

he was only awaiting an opportunity to take the conceit out of 

that pilgrim ; and the opportunity came too soon. When we 

reached the little settlement of Canyon Creek it was dark, 

and a light burning in a tent at the roadside attracted the 

18 



20 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

attention of the cayuse. He turned square across the road 
and stopped to look at it. Before Mike could induce him to 
move on the wagon came up, and the tongue struck him with 
a solid shoot squarely amidships. At this he concluded to 
break camp and move at once. Stiff-legged bucking set in. 
He waltzed, polkaed, bucked and shook Mike's frame almost 
to pieces. Finally he missed his footing and fell. He rolled 
all over Mike, and when he had mashed and churned him to 
his heart's content, got up, shook himself, and was ready to 
'be mounted again. 

None of us were in love with our teamster or his team 
from the first, but it was the only outfit we could get in town. 
We hoped, however, that when we reached Ed Forest's 
ranch we should be able to get him to furnish a team and 
take us out, and turn "Doc" back; but, unfortunately, 
Forest's horses were out on the range, and had strayed away 
so far that he had been unable to find them after a hard day's 
ride. So we were compelled, much against our wishes, to 
take up our march the next day with the same three plugs 
(" Doc." and his two horses) that we had started with. 

On Monday morning we drove up the Yellowstone five 
miles, forded it, and proceeded up Clark's Fork river to the 
mouth of Rock creek, where we had expected to find good 
hunting, but we met an old Crow Indian, who told us that 
several lodges of his tribe were camped on Rock creek, and 
had been for many ''sleeps"; so we knew we should find no 
game there, and must keep on up Clark's Fork. We camped 
on Rock creek that night, and in the morning held a council 
of war. We had noticed all the previous afternoon that one 
of " Doc's " plugs was very weak, and we had serious doubts 
about his being able to stand a long drive. If we had found 
game on Rock creek, and he could have grazed there two or 
three days while we were hunting, he would have gathered 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 21 

Strength from the good feed there — so much better than he 
had been used to at home — so that he could have stood the 
rest of the trip all right ; but now that we must push on for 
four or five days up to the mountains before finding game in 
paying quantities, we felt sure that plug at least would never 
be able to make it, and we decided to turn back to Forest's 
ranch, hoping that by the time we should reach there Ed 
would have found his horses and would be prepared to take 
us out. 

So we loaded up ; " Doc " managed with our help to get 
his team hooked up, and while we were putting the finishing 
touches to the load, Sawyer having concluded to ride the 
bay-complexioned cayuse that morning, climbed onto the 
hurricane deck and put his feet in the stirrups just as if he 
felt perfectly at home there. The pony was browsing on the 
rose bushes which Sawyer thought entirely unnecessary, inas- 
much as he had been in good grass all night. He pulled his 
head up several times, and said "Ho" to him, but this 
didn't last long. Presently the pony put his head down to 
take another bite, and Sawyer kicked him on the nose and 
said '* Ho." Well, you should have seen the storm that 
arose then ! That hurricane deck became the roughest place 
that ever poor Sawyer was stranded on. The pativcnt cayuse 
reared up behind and plunged down before ; then he reared 
up before and plunged down behind ; and all this time his 
legs were as stiff as hop poles. Sawyer said he thought in his 
soul that all his upper teeth would come out when the cayuse 
came down. He said " Ho " again, but the pony wouldn't 
" Ho." He made one more leap into the air and humped his 
baclc up. This time Sawyer concluded, like Sir Joseph Porter, 
to go below, but he couldn't even have his own way about 
that. At first he shot up into the air like a flaming meteor or 
something of that sort. He clawed out in every direction 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 23 

like a man hunting for a match-box in a dark room. His hat 
flew east, and his gun flew west, and his field-glass flew over 
the cuckoo's nest. And when he had got as high as the pony 
wanted him to go, he turned and went down into the weeds 
head first just as a big green bull-frog goes down into the 
water off of a high bank. 

Sawyer picked himself up, we all got around him, deployed 
and skirmished until we found his hat, gun and field-glass, 
made an inventory of him and found he was all there, and 
then the next thing was to catch the pony. 

I mounted my black charger and started after him. He 
headed for a large herd of Indian ponies that were grazing in 
the valley half a mile above us. My pony could easily out- 
run him, even although handicapped with my weight, and I 
soon headed him off, but he was too smart to let me get 
within reach of his bridle, and would shy off every time I 
came alongside of him. I didn't like to run my pony 
unnecessarily, so I returned to the wagon and told Allen to 
take a rope and lasso him. He took one of the picket ropes, 
got onto my pony and started. By this time the bay was in 
the midst of the Indian herd. Allen soon singled him out, 
but the rope was too wet and heavy to throw. It would not 
spread, and the only way of getting the fugitive was to run 
him down. Over the prairies, through brush, across the creek 
and back again, out onto the prairie through a large dog 
town, where we momentarily expected to see either horse 
thrown three times his length by stepping into a dog hole. 
The poor little black kept neck and neck with the bay, and 
Allen laid the coils of that heavy rope across the little imp's 
back, with such force at every jump that he carried the marks 
of it for several days afterward. The race lasted for half an 
hour, and then the little rogue came shambling up to the 



24 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

wagon, neighing piteously, and submitted gracefully to being 
taken in. 

Then there was still another circus. Allen put on a big 
Mexican spur, picked up a cotton-wood club, mounted him 
and told him to ''buck some more." The little devil tried 
to obey orders, but he was too tired. Allen hammered him 
with the club and roweled him with the steel until he so 
completely subdued him that from that time on, for the three 
weeks he remained a member of our outfit, that cayuse was 
as docile as a kitten. He never smiled again, at least not 
while we knew him. But Sawyer was quits too. He never 
climbed onto that hurricane deck again during that trip. 
We couldn't coax him to. He said once was enough for 
him, thank you, and it would be a cold day when we ever got 
him into that kind of a muss again. 

We drove back to Forest's ranch, where we arrived that 
night at dark. Ed was still out hunting for his horses, and 
his man told us had been out all day; but at nine o'clock he 
rode up with them, and then there was great rejoicing in our 
camp. Before we went to bed everything was arranged. In 
the morning we paid " Doc." off, and were all heartily glad 
to be rid of him. By noon Ed had his traps in shape, and 
after dinner we pulled out. We drove to the Yellowstone 
again, and as we were going out at the other side of the ford 
we saw a horseman crossing behind us and signaling to us, 
so we halted on the bank until he came up. It proved to 
be a messenger from Mrs. Allen, requesting Mr. A. to 
return at once to attend to some important business. Allen 
mounted his pony and started for Coulson, and we went into 
camp on the bank of the river. It was arranged that we 
were to make a short drive the next day, and that Allen 
would go home and attend to the business that had called him 
back and overtake us at our camp the next night. We caught 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 25 

several handsome mountain trout in the Yellowstone, within 
a few yards of our camp, on which we feasted that night and 
at breakfast the next morning. 

We moved up Clark's Fork the next day, crossed Rock 
creek and camped on the bank of the river five miles be- 
yond. Clark's Fork is a beautiful stream ; clear, very swift, 
and runs over large boulders nearly its entire length. It is 
full of mountain trout, most of them of large size. We 
caught all we wanted at every camp we made on the river and 
its tributaries, and feasted on them nearly the entire time 
we were out. At sundown we were delighted to see Allen 
ride into camp. Once more our party was complete. 



CHAPTER III. 

ON THE WAY TO WYOMING. 

INDIAN'S QUESTION, "SHOSTIDA?" — HUFFMAN IN CAMP — AGREES 
TO JOIN US — A FINE DOE ! BUT HUFFMAN HAS MY GUN — A DAY ON 
BENNETT CREEK — ALLEN IN LUCK — HUFFMAN CURSES HIS KEN- 
NEDY PEA-SLINGER — NOTHING BUT " WOODCHUCK " — UNIVERSAL 
DAMPNESS — THE LUCK TURNS. 

We pulled out early the following morning and continued 
our march up the river. We were in sight of large herds of 
Indian ponies nearly all day, and in fact during the three 
days that it took us to cross their reservation. Their tepees 
were scattered all along the river, and we never passed one 
without being challenged. A warrior would ride up to us, 
shake hands with us and shout '^shostida" (where are you 
going ?) in an authoritative, if not impudent tone, that gave 
us to understand at once that they considered us intruders, 
and would like to have us get off their ground as soon as 
possible. Our answer that we were going across the line into 
Wyoming, and that we were not going to hunt on their 
reservation, was generally satisfactory. But if we had killed 
any game or attempted to do so on their ground we would soon 
have been served with a peremptory notice to quit the premises. 

Two young warriors rode with us several miles this morn- 
ing, and finally told us if we would give them some fish-hooks, 
they would catch some trout and bring them to us for dinner. 
We gave them the hooks gladly enough and hoped we should 
not be bothered with them further, but sure enough, true to 
their promise, they turned up at noon with a fine string of trout. 

About eleven o'clock in the forenoon we met, away out 

26 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 21 

there on that lonely trail, my old friend L. A. Huffman, the 
Miles City photographer, who accompanied me to the Big 
Horn country last year and to whom I am indebted for most 
of the views with which this volume is embellished. He was 
just returning from the National Park, where he had been 
making stereoscopic views of the natural wonders of that great 
wonderland. We halted for dinner and plied him with the 
most earnest solicitations to turn back with us, to which he 
finally yielded. 

Talk about the strange coincidences of life, but here is 
certainly one of the strangest. That we should both have 
happened to choose that same trail across a stretch of 
country hundred of miles in extent, where there were plenty 
of other game trails as plain and good as the one we were 
on — that, without any previous arrangement or knowledge 
of each other's whereabouts, he should have started from 
away off in the National Park and we from the Northern 
Pacific railroad and should both have timed our movements 
just so as to meet here (for he was going to leave this trail that 
evening and strike east to Pryor's Gap), was certainly one of 
the strangest freaks of fortune on record. He and his com- 
panion were almost the first white men we had seen since 
leaving the Yellowstone, and we were the first they had seen 
since leaving the Park. To say that we were all delighted is 
to draw it mildly, for we felt that Huffman was a man that, 
now we had found him, we could not possibly do without on 
this trip. The two Crows came up at this time with their fish, 
and we were also joined by an old medicine-man of the tribe. 
Altogether, we made quite a formidable if not respectable 
looking picnic party. 

After dinner Huffman's companion took two of his horses 
and pursued his way toward the railroad, while Huffman took 
the other four and turned back with us. 



28 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

On the morning of September 9th we moved early, and 
about ten o'clock in the forenoon crossed the boundary-line 
between Montana and Wyoming, which line is also the 
southern boundary of the Crow reservation. We heaved a 
unanimous sigh of relief when we got out of the jurisdiction 
of those pestiferous redskins. Huffman killed a deer while 
we halted for dinner, and so won the thanks of the outfit for 
our first venison. It was on the opposite side of the river from 
him when he killed it, and he was on foot, and some distance 
from camp. I happened along just then with my pony, and 
he asked me to go across and get it. He said I would have 
enough to do to handle the deer, and had better leave my 
gun with him. I obeyed his orders, and went after the deer 
while he went to camp. I dressed the a,nimal, swung it into 
my saddle, and started to lead my pony up the river to get 
an easier crossing. Just as I got up the bank a fine doe 
jumped out of the grass, ran up onto a little ridge about forty 
yards away, and stopped and looked at me for several 
minutes. I didn't make any remarks then about a man that 
was fool enough to take another man's gun away from him, 
nor about a man that was fool enough to let another man 
carry his gun to camp. Oh, no ! If I had pulled the wrong 
trigger on that doe, and the buckshot had been in the other 
barrel, my language would not have been more forcible nor 
less elegant. 

We jumped a coyote that afternoon, and with four re- 
peaters and one single shot we almost set the ground on fire 
around him, but as he started at about two hundred yards 
rise and ran away ahead of his ticket, we failed to make 
a score on him. I put out some poison for them that night 
and several nights following, but, although they howled 
around our camp a great deal, they didn't take the bait. 

On the loth we ran into a large herd of cattle, and 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 



29 



amongst them a herd of eight antelopes. They were a long 
distance from the trail, however, and we didn't go after them, 
but contented ourselves with giving them a few harmless shots 
at about four hundred yards rise. 

We left the river that afternoon, and started up a creek 
that came down from the mountains on the west, hoping to 




A DAY ON BENNETT CREEK. 



find game near the head of it ; but when we got to the foot- 
hills we found a cabin theie occupied by the ranchman who 
owned the herd of cattle we had passed through, so we had 
to turn back again and go on up the river to the mouth of 
Bennett creek, another beautiful stream^ also coming in from. 



30 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

the west. We proceeded up this about two miles, and 
camped. The next day we explored it well up into the 
range toward its source, but it did not develop into a good 
game country, either. There were plenty of antelopes near 
our camp, however, and we put in a good portion of the day 
hunting them. Allen killed two. Sawyer two, and three of 
us collectively killed one, after putting six bullets through 
him. 

On the 1 2th we pulled out up the river again, crossed it, 
and moved up Pat O'Hare creek, a tributary that comes in 
from the southwest and empties near the mouth of the Clark's 
Fork canyon. We followed this stream to the foot of the 
mountains and made our camp, determined to find game in 
this region or turn back. On the 15 th Huffman and I 
scouted the foothills to the west thoroughly for a distance of 
ten miles. We found some bear signs, but none of elk or 
other game. Allen, Sawyer and Weise started up the side of 
the mountain. Allen jumped a white tail doe and killed her 
before he had gone a mile from camp. Thus the wolf was 
again (paradoxically) driven from our door by the presence 
of another supply of fresh meat. Ed Forest took a long 
tramp to the southeast, saw a black bear and nine elk, but did 
not succeed in getting a shot at any of them. However, the 
news that we had at last got into a country where there were 
elk and bear, revived our drooping spirits, and we were all on 
the war-path early the next morning, eager for the fray. I 
climbed the mountain clear to the top, and in a broad canyon 
where there were several springs and thickets of quaking 
asp, water beech, jack pine, etc., I discovered numerous fresh 
signs of both bear and elk, but failed to get sight of any of 
the game, although I hunted diligently all day. 

Allen was the lucky man again, for he killed a half-grown 
black bear within a mile of camp. But a,ll the hard words 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 31 

were fired by and at Huffman, who returned to camp that 
night with the news that he had rode up to the head of the 
creek four or five miles from camp, and had there jumped 
three separate jags of elk ; one of about forty, another of 
about twenty-five and another of about sixty ; that he had 
emptied his magazine and his belt into them at fifty to 
seventy-five yards rise, that he had wounded several, but had 
not killed any. He didn't swear. Oh no, of course not. 
He wasn't mad enough. He just raved and danced like an 
escaped lunatic ; he tore his hair, slung his hat and tramped 
our grub and cooking utensils into the ground with his big 
boots as he waltzed around the camp-fire. He pronounced 
all the maledictions he could think of on that condemned 
little Kennedy pea slinger of his. He wished he had a car 
load of them to dam the Yellowstone river with ; and yet 
he said he didn't know what the river had done to deserve 
such punishment. On second consideration he rather 
thought it was the guns that ought to be damned instead of 
the river. 

, Sawyer said how he would like to have been there with 
his Winchester Express; Mike and Allen would have liked 
to have been there with their 45-75 Winchesters; and I 
whispered in Huffman's ear that I might have wounded 
another one or two if I had been there with my old 40-75 
Sharps. 

"Well, you sheep-eating idiots," he growled, ''why in 
thunder did'nt you come? I didn't tell you to stay away." 
We finally all cooled off, and compromised with the few of 
the elk that got away by promising them that we would be 
with them bright and early on the morrow. 

And sure enough, the next morning we moved on them en 
masse. We went to the same quaking-asp thickets the same 
coulees and springs where Huffinan had been the day before ; 



32 RUSTL.^GS IN THE ROCKIES. 

we found trails, blood and hair, and smelt the sulphurous 
fumes of twenty-four-hour-old profanity, but there were no 
elk in that neck of woods. And so we had to carry our 
several belts full of cartridges, and our several loads of dis- 
appointments, which were much heavier, back to camp. The 
next day, Saturday, the i6th, we all returned and hunted the 
same section of country, but still the elk had not returned 
in any considerable numbers. Sawyer, Allen and Mike saw 
three, and Sawyer got one shot, but missed. 

We now began to get desperate. If was beginning to be 
a case of woodchuck with us, for we were nearly out of meat 
again. True, we had killed a good deal of meat, but when 
six able-bodied men and a boy sit down to eat in that country, 
meat vanishes before them like dry grass before a prairie fire. 
We determined to make a desperate effort j;he next day. 
When we crawled out of our tent the next morning the 
heavens looked gloomy. The sky was hidden by a dense, dark 
mist, and heavy fog clouds were floating ominously about the 
mountain-sides. Everything we touched felt damp excepting 
the whisky-bottle, and that was dry enough (inside) for a 
matchbox. Our ardor was somewhat dampened by this 
outer dampness and absence of inner dampness, but we were 
not to be delayed by such trifles. 

We started for the canyon where I had seen so many 
good surface indications on Friday. But Huffman got stuck 
on the scenery — the fog clouds floating around the mountain 
tops, and returned to camp to make some views. 

The rest of the party went up the trail about two miles 
and separated; three of us went directly up the mountain 
into the canyon, the other three ascended by another trail 
farther to the south. When Forest, Sawyer and I got into 
the canyon we separated, Sawyer going up near the south 
wall, I near the north, and Forest through the center. He 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES 33 

told US to be ready for business, for he meant to run game 
over us if we didn't keep out of the way; I had not gone 
more than three or four hundred yards when, sure enough, I 
heard a great commotion in the midst of a quaking-asp 
thicket, and knew at once by the nature of the sound that it 



"THIS IS HOW WE GOT 'EM." 

was caused by a band of elk, and that Forest had jumped 
them. They came directly toward me, but the fog was so 
dense and the brush so thick that I could not see them until 
they were within a few feet of me. As they approached me 
3 



34 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

they separated, about five or six going on each side of me, 
and so close that had the weather been clear I could almost 
have counted their eye-winkers. Finally, I caught a glimpse 
of a small patch of red hair through the fog and leaves, and 
sent a bullet into it ; then another and another. Then all 
was oblivion again, so far as sight was concerned, but I could 
hear them thumping and crashing against trees and bushes, 
their hoofs clattering over the rocks in their mad flight, and 
Forest yelling at me to '' Give it to 'em." I went to where 
they were when I fired, and found a fine large fat cow elk 
dead, with two holes through her, one through the hips and 
one through the lungs. She had presented herself at two 
openings as she ran and had got a double dose. The third 
shot was carried away by a joung bull. I saw him dash 
through a rift in the fog within twenty feet of me with blood 
runnijig from a wound high up in his side, over the paunch. 
• While I was admiring my prize I heard Sawyer's Express 
belching forth her compliments to the wapiti, and making 
the rock-ribbed hills echo with her musical voice ; one, two, 
in quick succession, followed by the three shouts that we had 
agreed should call the party together. On repairing to him, 
I found he had a fine yearling heifer down within fifty yards 
of my cow. We scoured the woods awhile in search of the 
others, but they had lit out for tall timber. We tried to trail 
the wounded bull, but the undergrowth was so thick and he 
had left so little blood, that we were forced to give up the 
task. 

For the past two hours it had been raining ; one of those 
quiet, modest, unassuming rains that follow a damp, foggy 
morning; one of those rains that does not make any un- 
necessary noise, but which means business, as the Dutchman 
says " fon the verd git," and we were wet to the skin; yes, 
almost to the bone. We returned and took the entrails out 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 35 

of our two elk. The other boys thought we had better cut 
them up and each pack in a load of meat, but I objected, 
as Huffman wanted some views of them ; and in fact, we all 
did. 

^'But," said Allen, ''it's raining so he can't make any 
views to-day, and if we leave the carcasses here over night 
the bears will eat them up." 

"I don't think they will," I said, "for I'm going to come 
out here and sleep with them, and if the aforesaid bears want 
to eat any carcasses they can try mine." 

They all thought I would have rather a damp atmosphere 
to sleep in, but I was anxious to save the meat and skins, and 
determined to make the best of it. So we all went back to 
camp. I fired a few cold potatoes, beans, chunks of meat 
and hard tack into my neck, took a small piece of canvas 
and my rubber coat, and started for another climb up the 
mountain. 



CHAPTER IV. 

MEDITATIONS IN A WICIUP. 

PHILOSOPHY IN A TENT — "ME T-R-R-RUSTY RIFUL " — AWAY FROM THE 
ILLS OF LIFE — ELK-HEART AND HARD TACK FOR BREAKFAST — THE 
PERORATION OF A DONKEY'S BRAY — WAPITI WINDS HIS HORN — 
THE MONARCH OF THE ROCKIES DIES AS A KING SHOULD DIE. 

I ARRIVED at the seat of war about five o'clock, stretched 
my canvas across a washout, cut boughs and stood them up 
around three sides of it, and threw down a lot for a bed, 
built a rousing fire against a big rock in front of it, got up a 
supply of wood sufficient to keep it burning all night, and 
then crawled into my wiciup to meditate. 

Now, thought I, this isn't so bad after all. Some folks 
might think it was, but it isn't. The wood is wet, to be sure, 
but by keeping plenty of it on it burns tolerably well. These 
bushes under me are wet, but I have spread my rubber coat 
over them, and that keeps the dampness from coming through 
and wetting me. Besides, my clothes are so wet that they 
couldn't get any wetter if I were to sleep in Lake Michigan ; 
so what does it matter if my other surroundings are wet? 
Besides they are drying rapidly under the influence of this 
rousing fire. It is still raining steadily, but my little pup 
tent keeps it off. The night is cold, but if my back gets cold 
while my face is toward the fire I can turn over and warm 
my back. Some people might feel lonely out here, four 
miles from camp, and in a neck of woods that is full of 
bears and other frisky varmints, but I have ''me t-r-r-rusty 
riful " with me, as the dizzy actor would say; besides, 
wild varmints are not apt to approach a fire, The carcases 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 37 

lie within a few yards of me on opposite sides of my camp, 
and the varmints aforesaid are not likely to disturb them 
either, so long as the fire burns. If they do, I shall be very 
likely to find it out, and death will forthwith go abroad in 
the land. 

And then it is so nice and quiet here. That outweighs 
all objections to the place and its surroundings. The conduc- 
tor will not interrupt my snooze to-night by shaking my arm 
and calling for ^^teekets," nor the brakeman by shouting 
'^clamzoo, change cars for 'troit," nor the train butcher by 
yelling "peanuts." The infernal milkman's bell won't toll 
the hour of four o'clock to-morrow morning. I won't have 
to put my vest under my head to save that thirty-five cents 
in my pocket-book from the burglars. They will give my 
room a wide berth to-night. The landlord can't harass me 
this evening with that little ''arrears of rent bill" of his. 
The grocer and the butcher can whistle for what I owe them, 
that is, if they feel like whistling. I don't care if coal is 
booming. Let her boom. I don't want any now. Have 
plenty of fuel for the present, thank you. I think of the 
little black-eyed widow away back at home, and wonder how 
she is faring in the battle of life. That's the only care I have 
to-night. But surely no ill can befall her when a fellow is 
away off out here. It would be a mighty cowardly fate that 
would steal a march on a man and rob him of his treasures 
when he is not there to defend them, so I will consign her to 
the care of Him who watcheth over the little sparrows, dis- 
miss that care also, and betake myself to sleep. 

The weather grew intensely cold during the night ; the 
rain turned to snow, and the water that hung on the leaves 
froze. Ice formed on the little ponds of water, and Jack 
Frost woke me up several times during the night to replenish 
my fire. At four o'clock in the morning I took the heart of 



38 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

one of the elk, spitted it on a forked stick before the fire, and 
roasted it to a turn. On this and some hard tack which I 
had hastily shoveled into the pockets of my hunting coat 
when leaving camp the previous evening, I made a hearty 
breakfast, and at dawn was ready for the fray again. Before 
it was fully light an electric thrill was sent through my 
inmost soul by the sound of a bull elk's whistle, which was 
borne to my eager ears on the fresh morning breeze. Could 
it be possible ? Were some of those monsters still hanging 
about to give me another matinee? Truly, for while I lis- 
tened the sonorous and to me sublimely beautiful sound, 
came again. 

My friend, did you ever hear an elk whistle ? 

''Yes, plenty of them." 

So? Well, then I won't try to describe it to you. But 
there's another good-looking young gentleman over in the 
northeast corner of the hall who says he never did, and 
to him I would remark that it sounds more like the closing 
paragraph, the last sad note, indefinitely prolonged, the 
tremolo-staccato, the peroration, as it were, of a donkey's 
bray. Sometimes it is preceded or followed by a kind of 
grunt, although not always. In fact, scarcely any two elk 
whistle just alike. The same one varies his tones, but they 
average about as suggested. The noise is a very shrill one, 
capable of being heard to a great distance, and to a sports- 
man's ears it is probably the most musical and fascinating 
sound to be heard in the mountains. To me on this occasion 
it was peculiarly interesting, for I wanted above all things on 
this trip to secure a good head for mounting, and the 
questions that ran through my brain were : Is this an old- 
timer? Has he a fine, well-developed head and broad- 
spreading, perfect antlers ? And shall I be able to get him ? 
The chances were largely against me, for the leaves and grass 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 39 

were frozen, and so noisy that it would be almost impossible 
to get within range of him without alarming him. The snow 
was not deep enough to even deaden the noise, and so was of 
no assistance to me. But I set out in the direction from 
whence the music came. It came from the top of one of the 
high ridges to the south of the canyon, probably half a mile 
from where I was. I had to exercise the greatest care in 
climbing the canyon wall, and when I reached the spot 
where I had heard the whistle I found the tracks, large as 
those of a three-year-old steer, but the author of them was 
not there. While I was pondering over them and sizing up 
(in my mind) the animal' that could make such tracks, I 
heard the whistle again away to the north. I picked my way 
cautiously through gulches, over ^'hog-backs" and hills, and 
when I reached the desired locality I heard Mr. Wapiti 
winding his horn from the top of another ridge half a mile 
to the south. 

Away I went again, trembling all the time lest he should 
wind me or hear some of the noises I was compelled to make, 
and bid adieu to his present stamping-ground. But he was so 
intent on finding some of the coy maidens of his harem 
among these hills that he didn't notice me, and this time as 
I reached the brow of the hill I heard a movement in a 
thicket ahead, caught a faint outline of the monster as he 
passed through the brush, and when he stopped I could see a 
patch of reddish brown hair as large as my hat. In an 
instant the old pill-driver lay with her heel pressing firmly 
against my shoulder, a cloud of smoke arose from her mouth, 
and there was a mad charge across the top of the ridge that 
showed too plainly that the pill had commenced to operate. 

As the broadside was presented to me in crossing an 
opening I sent in another dose, and then all was still. I ran 
up a little farther, and saw him standing in another thicket. 



40 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

He was too badly hurt to run far, but I gave him another 
broadsider, and he started to run directly away from me. 
Then I gave him two in the rump. He turned to right 
again, and another leaden bolt caught him in the shoulder, 
another through the lungs, and another through the lower 
jaw, making eight in all. Then he came to bay again, 
and I walked up to within twenty paces of him. It was 
useless to add to his already too great suffering ; he could go 
no farther. He looked at me, shook his massive head, 
pawed the ground, and his eyes gleamed like balls of fire. 
He would have charged me, but his strength was too far 
gone. 

Then was enacted the sublimest death-scene I ever wit- 
nessed. He trembled all over. He inhaled until his sides 
expanded far beyond their natural size, he blew this vast 
volume of air from his nostrils in clouds of steam, accom- 
panied by a noise like the exhaust of a steam engine. He 
pawed up the earth again, shook his head, then placed his 
antlers to the ground, and threw his weight upon them as if 
giving the death thrust to some prostrate antagonist. In this 
effort he forced his body into the air until his feet cleared the 
ground, he poised a moment, fell with a heavy thud on his 
side, blew the steam and blood from his nostrils again,— and 
the great monster was dead ! Talk about great acting. I 
have seen great actors in their greatest death scenes, but never 
saw so grand, so awe-inspiring a death as this real death of 
the Monarch of the Rockies. 

I sat down and gazed for twenty minutes upon his lifeless 
form, and bitterly did I reproach myself for bringing to ' an 
untimely end so noble, so majestic an animal. What a strange 
passion it is that leads men to such slaughter of innocent 
creatures, and what a strange fancy it is that leads them to 
think such slaughter sport ! It is too deep a problem for my 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 



41 



untutored mind j I leave it to the metaphysician, to the 
psychologist. 

When I had recovered from this gloomy reverie I walked 
up and surveyed the fallen hero. He was indeed a giant, much 
larger than Huffman's sorrel horse, which we knew weighed 
at the time over eight hundred pounds. He had by far the 




CVACKQO-tUa-Ca 



THE MONARCH OF THE ROCKIES. 

finest pair of antlers I have ever seen. They have since been 
examined by the Hon. J. D. Caton, Gen. Strong and several 
other gentlemen of high authority, all of whom pronounce 
them the largest and handsomest pair they have ever seen. 
Judge Caton says it would be worth a trip across the conti- 



42 Rustlings in the rockies. 

nent to look at them. Each beam measures four feet nine 
inches long, and the spread is four feet six inches. There are 
six points on one beam and seven on the other. 

I got the entire head home in good condition, had it 
mounted, and it now occupies the most conspicuous place in 
my '^ den." As I pause in the midst of this recital, and look 
up at it, it wears that same grand, majestic look it wore there 
on top of the Rocky Mountains in that cold crisp September 
morning, and I have but to give my imagination play, and I 
find myself surrounded by those same old snow-capped peaks, 
those tall, rocky crags peering out above the pine-trees, which 
are hung with their crystal fringe of ice, glittering in the 
bright morning sun. I can feel that fresh, frosty, invigorat- 
ing atmosphere ; I can hear those frozen leaves crush under 
my feet as I walk, and my blood dances through my veins as 
I climb from hilltop to hilltop in pursuit of the noble quarry, 
stimulated the while by his fascinating whistle. Ah ! soon 
come the time when I may again visit that land of enchant- 
ment. 

But how our airy castles do crumble under the touch of 
reality. Enter Mrs. Coquina with a towel around her head, 
a broom in one hand, a dustpan in the other, and a smile on 
her face, as she says : 

" Old man, you'd better put in some coal, or this fire will 
be out." 



CHAPTER V. 

A PERILOUS EXPERIENCE. 

THREE BEARS ANXIOUS FOR GORE — THE COMPANY RATTLED — WE TRY 
THE EFFECT OF NOISE AND BLUSTER — THE GRIZZLYS RETIRE — 
MIKE AROUSES THE ANGER OF AN OLD SHE-BEAR — A RACE FOR LIFE 
— HUFFMAN AND I TO THE RESCUE — TWO OUT OF THREE 
KILLED — A FINE VIEW OF THE ROCKIES — MORE SPORT — THE 
CAMP BROKEN UP — WE START FOR HOME. 

And now to return to my narrative. Either one of the 
eight balls that entered the elk's carcass would have caused 
his death in time, but I was anxious to get him down as near 
my temporary camp as possible, and for that purpose I kept 
on shooting until I saw that he had more lead than he could 
carry away. 

It is frequently stated that the wapiti is the easiest of all 
the cervidae to kill, that he gives up sooner after being hit 
than any other member of the family. But my experience 
does not lead me to think so. Six of these eight bullets 
passed entirely through his body and yet he lived nearly half 
an hour after the last one was fired. His was an exceptional 
case of vitality, but all the others that I have killed or seen 
killed required very hard hitting and in vital parts to bring 
them down. 

After admiring my prize to my entire satisfaction, I re- 
turned to my temporary camp to wait for Huffman and the 
others of the party. They put in an appearance about noon. 
Huffman made his views of the two elk; we cut them up 
and packed the best of the meat on one of his pack-horses, 
and he, Mike and I went up to the other carcass. When we 

43 



44 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

arrived we were surprised to find that a bear nad been at it, 
and had torn it shghtly and eaten a small portion of it, but 
not enough to interfere with our purpose. As soon as Huff- 
man had completed his work, Mike and I proceeded to skin 
the carcass and take off the head. While thus engaged, and- 
while Huffman was packing his outfit on his horse, we heard 
strange noises on the hillside above us, and looking up we 
saw three grizzly bears charging down upon us. For a mo- 
ment we were horror-stricken. They were between us and 
our guns when we first saw them, and if we ran and left our 
horses they would break loose and we would probably never 
see them again. We dared not even leave them to tree our- 
selves^ and could not possibly mount them to get away, 
for they were crazed ^ith fright, and we were com- 
pelled to stay by them. The bears had been there and got a 
taste of the elk, just enough to make them ferocious, when 
they had heard us coming back, and had retreated into the 
woods. They had waited for us to get away as long as they 
cared to, and had then resolved to drive us away or eat us up, 
and they didn't seem to care which. 

They had evidently sized us up from away back on top of 
the hill, and knew just what and who we were, and how 
many there were of us. They seemed to come for gore, and 
lots of it. 

It was the most frightful assault that ever I looked at. 
They came like a band of redskins assaulting an emigrant train 
and trying to stampede the stock. They were fairly jumping 
over each other in their eagerness to be the first in the fight. 
They were roaring like infuriated bulls, growling and snarling 
like mad dogs, puffing and snorting like locomotive engines, 
and the brush was cracking under them as if they were great 
rocks rolling down from the top of some mountain peak. 
Huffman had a buckskin lariat on " old sorrel ' ' with a hack- 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 46 

more around his nose, and at the first sight of the infuriated 
beasts had taken a turn around his hand with'the lariat. The 
horse reared and charged until he threw Huffman into the 
branches of the tree to which he was tied, and lodged him in 
them six feet from the ground. We were all fearfully rattled 
for a moment, for the assault was zo purely unnatural and 
unexpected. 

We should not have been half so much surprised had the 
assaulting party been Indians, but we did not expect and 
were not prepared for either. But we pulled our knives and 
rushed at them, yelled like savages, swung our hats, and 
when they found we were not going to run they halted, 
looked at us a moment, turned and walked slowly and sulkily 
back up the hill into the thick underbrush, and were out of 
sight by the time they had gone twenty yards. Mike now 
got hold of his gun and started in pursuit, leaving Huffman 
and I still in charge of the horses. He walked cautiously up 
the hill a few paces looking for the game, when suddenly the 
old female bear sprang at him from a clump of bushes right 
at his side. 

She was within six feet of him when he first saw her, and 
there was no time for shooting ; at least he thought there 
wasn't, and he turned and came back down the hill bare- 
headed, his face as fair as a lily, his hair (what little he had) 
and his coat-tail standing straight out behind him, — clearing 
about twenty feet at each jump, and the bear lighting in his 
tracks as soon as he was out of them. Huffman and I left 
the horses, rushed at the bear again, whooped and yelled for 
life (that is, for Mike's life), and again succeeded in 
checking the savage brute. She walked sullenly back up the 
hill again. I now got hold of my rifle and reinforced Mike. 
We both moved on the enemy, this time more cautiously, 
Mike shaking like a leaf from the terrible rattling he had 



46 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 



just gone through. We had gone but a few feet when he 
caught sight of the old lady again, and with a lucky shot 
landed a bullet in the butt of her ear, laying her dead within 
twenty feet of us. At the report of his rifle one of the 
others raised on its haunches and I sent a bullet through its 




UNITED IN DEATH. 



heart, making another funeral in that family. The third one 
concluded he wasn't hungry just then, and, skipping away 
through the jungle, made his escape without giving either of 
us a shot at him. 

We dragged the corpses of the two down and laid them 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 4*7 

tenderly alongside of the elk, and Huffman leveled his 
camera on them again amid the plaudits of the admiring 
multitude. 

I have heard a great many stories of bears attacking 
persons without having first been attacked or hurt themselves, 
but never believed them. I have always considered them 
" bear stories," and have allowed them to pass in at one ear 
and out at the other. But the experience of that afternoon 
banished all skepticism from my mind on that topic. I am 
prepared to believe implicity hereafter that a grizzly will 
fight for fresh meat, and shall in the future govern myself 
accordingly. 

Many of my friends have expressed surprise at our being 
able to check them by rushing at them and without coming 
into actual contact with them. We hardly expected to be 
able to do so ourselves, and could only account for it by 
calling to mind instances in which we have seen a ferocious, 
savage dog rush at a man with the intention of tearing him to 
pieces, and have seen him quell and turn away under the. 
influence of a stern and defiant demeanor assumed by his 
intended victim. 

Our assailants were not frightened, understand, any mere 
than was the savage dog, but they walked slowly and reluc- 
tantly away, in each case frequently looking back over their 
shoulders and showing us their ugly teeth. If we had 
attempted flight instead of standing our ground we would 
undoubtedly have furnished the cold meat for a grizzly pic- 
nic. 

Mike says he don't want to run any more grizzlies unless 
they are muzzled and hobbled. He says he likes to see a dog 
so well trained that he will come promptly to heel when 
bidden, but he don't care to find another she "bar" so 
blamed fresh that she will insist on coming to heel without 



48 RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 

his- bidding. But he showed good leather in staying in the 
fight until it was over. He had as close a call for a funeral 
as any man ever had that escaped it, and the shaking up that 
he and even Huffman and I got would have scared any man 
that ever wore pants. The woods are full of hunters that had 
they been dealt the hand that Mike got, would have been 
running yet. 

Nothing of importance was done the next forenoon. In 
the afternoon Weise, Sawyer and Allen returned and skinned 
the two bears, after which they hunted up the canyon some 
distance. They saw another large grizzly, and Sawyer got a 
shot at him at long range, through thick brush, and missed. 
The bear then ran across toward Allen who got in two 
running shots, but with no better success. As they were 
returning Weise killed a grizzly cub, and saw an old one go 
spinning off through the thicket near by, but didn't get a 
shot at her. 

Wednesday the 20th we moved camp up to the mouth of 
the canyon, and spent the day in making a new camp. 
Thursday hunted up canyon to the top of the range, from 
which we had a fine view of the main range of the Rockies, 
away off to the southwest. We could also see steam issuing 
from the geysers in' the National Park. Saw no game except 
blue grouse, and no signs of anything larger. Thursday was 
uneventful, but on Friday afternoon Sawyer and Weise went 
back to the elk carcasses, and each got another shot at a large 
grizzly, but again made '"unaccountable" misses. About 
this time Allen was visited by a large carbuncle, which landed 
on his cheek, and almost confined him to camp for the next 
two or three days. Otherwise things were quiet; no one 
made any good scores during that time. Sawyer set his gun 
near the elk carcass, Sunday evening, with a piece of fresh 
meat at the muzzle, and a string leading from it to the trigger. 



RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 49 

Early Monday morning all hands started for the front to see 
what it had killed. Sure enough on arriving there they found 
that the bate had been disturbed, and the gun discharged. 
There were a few tracks of a bear still visible, but owing to a 
heavy rain having fallen in the meantime, the trail could not 
be followed. 

Allen took a seat in a tree near the elk carcass, and before 
be had been there half an hour, heard the familiar ''oh-woh, 
oh-woh " of a black bear, and looking up the hill saw one 
coming directly toward him. He waited until it came within 
about twenty yards, when he fired, the ball striking just in 
the sticking place, ranging upward and breaking the spine. 
Bruin never smiled again. When returning in the afternoon 
the grizzly that had fallen a victim to Sawyer's set gun the 
night before, was found. He was a very large one, was shot 
through the paunch and lay within one hundred yards of 
where the gun was set. 

Wednesday the 27th all hands went up the same canyon 
again and found plenty of fresh elk signs. Sawyer soon got 
sight of a cow about two hundred yards away, running across 
him. He fired when she turned, and ran the other way. 
He fired again and knocked her down, but she got up at 
once, ran again and was soon out of sight. We tried to trail 
her by the blood, but could not find her. In a few minutes 
we heard Mike put in seven shots in rapid succession, and 
then shout. We went to him and found he had killed a fine 
cow. We dressed her, hung the hide, tallow and most of the 
meat up in a tree, and went to camp. 

The time had now arrived for us to close the present cam- 
paign, and on the morrow, after collecting the meat, hides, 
etc., and bringing them in, we broke camp and started home. 
And thus endeth the narrative of our three weeks of " Rust- 
lings in the Rockies, ' ' 
4 



CHAPTER VI. 

IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

AWAY TO THE MOUNTAINS — THE RED RIVER VALLEY — A GARDEN IN 
THE DESERT — FROM BISMARCK TO GLENDIVE — THE BAD LANDS 

ON THE LITTLE MISSOURI — "HELL WITH THE FIRE OUT" FOUR 

HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-THREE BRIDGES IN TWO HUNDRED AND 
TWEN'IY-ONE MILES — A DRIVE UP THE YELLOWSTONE — BUTCHERS 
AND BUFFALOES — A WORD OF WARNING — OFF TO THE BIG HORN. 

A year ago to-day I started on my first trip to Montana, 
and to-day, August 27, 1881, I find myself at the Chicago, 
Milwaukee & St. Paul depot, with my rifle, cartridges, hunting 
suit, and camp equipage packed, preparatory to another journey 
to the same mystic quarter of the world, only that I am bound 
further into the territory this time than before, and also into 
the northern portion of Wyoming, my main objective point 
this time being the Big Horn mountains. 

I told the baggage man to check my baggage to Glendive, 
Montana. 

" Glendive ! Is that all the further you're going?" 

No, but that is as far as I can ride — I shall have to walk 
the rest of the way. 

My ticket secured, I retired to rest in the elegant and lux- 
urious sleeper attached to the train, and awoke next morning 
at La Crosse. At one p.m. we landed in the new union depot 
at St. Paul. Here I stopped to visit a friend until the next 
evening at seven o'clock, when I boarded the train on the 
Northern Pacific railroad, and we pulled out for Bismarck. 
While in St. Paul, I had the pleasure of meeting that sterling 
old soldier, Major Guido Ilges, who commanded the perilous 

50 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 61 

expedition to the Upper Missouri in the winter of 1879-80, 
in which the Sioux chief Gall and his band were captured. 
This was a movement of great value and importance to the 
country, for it virtually broke up the hostile element of the 
Sioux nation. It left them too weak to successfully hold out 
'against the army longer, and the ultimate surrender of Crow 
King, Log Dog, Sitting Bull and the others, followed as a 
necessary consequence. 

After a night's run from St. Paul, we entered the famous 
Red river valley, the greatest wheat growing country in the 
world. The crop this year is bountiful, and is now being 
threshed and shipped. Steam threshers can be seen at work 
in every direction, and the grain, in many instances, is being 
hauled directly to the stations, and loaded into cars. West 
of Fargo to Bismarck, there are still millions of acres of un- 
cultivated lands, as rich and as valuable for farming and graz- 
ing purposes as any of those that are already under cultivation. 
But they are settling up rapidly. 

Years ago, when this I'oad was first projected, there were 
those who pronounced its originators insane. It was said that 
if a road were built across the continent this far north, it 
could not be operated more than six months in the year, ow- 
ing to the terrible winters experienced in this latitude ; but 
in practical contradiction of this theory, the fact is announced 
that, while so many roads further south were blockaded by snow 
during a greater portion of that terrible winter of 1879-80, the 
Northern Pacific was not blockaded a single day. It was said 
that the region through which the line was to run was a bleak, 
snowy, inhospitable desert, where nothing in the way of 
farm or garden products could be made to grow, and where 
stock, as well as human beings, must inevitably perish from 
cold. But the hundreds of prosperous farms, the beautiful 
crops, and the large and successful stock ranches all along the 



52 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

route, far up toward the Rocky Mountains, give us ocular 
demonstration of the fact that the desert has been made to 
blossom as the rose. And not only has it been found possi- 
ble to build a railroad and till the soil in this latitude, but the 
Canadian government is building a trans-continental road on 
a line two to three hundred miles north of this, that promises 
equally favorable results. 

We arrived at Bismarck at six o'clock in the evening, and 
stopped over night. 

Mr. John Leasure, an intimate friend of former days, 
whom I met here, entertained me very pleasantly during the 
evening with an account of a hunt in which he participated, 
in the Musselshell countr}-, a few years ago. The party killed 
a number of grizzly and cinnamon bears, elk, mountain 
sheep, deer, etc. He says it is one of the best localities in 
the West for game of this class. He is a frontiersman of 
several years' experience, and a skillful and successful hunter. 

We left Bismarck at six o'clock the next morning for 
Glendive, the then terminus of the road ; passed through a, 
beautiful series of valleys, including the Hart, the Curlew, 
the Knife, the Cannonball and others, through each of which 
flow streams of water, varying in size as well as quality — 
some of them being pure and others tinctured with alkali. 
But there is plenty of sweet water for agricultural purposes, 
and the land is as finely situated for farming or stock growing 
as any one could desire. 

We passed through the world-famous Bad Lands, border- 
ing the Little Missouri, during the afternoon. These have 
been described so often by various writers that I will not here 
detain the reader by adding anything to what has already 
been said, and besides no one, though he may read volumes 
of descriptions of this marvellous region, can form any con- 
ception of what these Bad Lands are like. They must be 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 53 

seen to be intelligently understood. General Sully's descrip- 
tion of them, however, will bear repetition here, for it is 
multum in parvo. He tersely characterized them as "hell 
with the fire out." Some idea of the expense of building a 
railroad through this country and along these winding streams 
may be derived from the fact that there are 473 bridges on 
the Missouri division, which is only 221 miles long. 

We arrived at Glendive at 7:30 o'clock in the evening, 
and were cordially greeted by Major Bell aild Lieutenant 
Slocum, of the Seventh cavalry. Mr. T. C. Kurtz, who is in 
charge of the company's store at that place, fed and lodged 
us in a most hospitable and comfortable manner. As soon as 
I arrived, I commenced to figure on the means of getting 
from there to Miles City and Fort Keough. Fortunately I 
formed the acquaintance of Dr. G. E. Bushnell, an army sur- 
geon, who was en route to Fort Ellis, via Fort Keough, and 
who was coming through in an ambulance. I drew on my 
ample supply of cheek, and requested permission to accom- 
pany him, which he kindly granted. Accordingly we left 
Glendive at seven o'clock the next morning, on a construc- 
tion train destined for Cabin Creek, fifteen miles further on, 
where the Doctor's ambulance was awaiting him. 

We reached it in good time, hastily transferred ourselves 
to it, and our baggage to an escort wagon, and were off for a 
seventy miles drive up the Yellowstone. The mules were in 
good condition, the drivers gave them the buckskin vigor- 
ously, and the cloud of dust we left behind us showed the 
other voyagers in the valley that we were not disposed to 
waste any time making the journey. We arrived at Captain 
Snider's camp, at the mouth of Powder river, at four o'clock 
in the evening, where a relay awaited us. The captain invited 
us to a sumptuous lunchj which we discussed with a relish, 
while the fresh teams were being hooked on. When these 



64 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

duties had been performed, we resumed our seat in the ambu- 
lance and again spun away over the plains. 

The doctor was accompanied by his good wife, who is 
pretty, witty and vivacious, and her conversation added 
greatly to the enjoyment- of the trip. We passed through 
Miles City at half-past ten, and a few minutes later arrived at 
Fort Keough, which is situated two miles further up the river. 

I proceeded at once to the quarters of my old friend, 
Captain Borden. He had retired for the night, but a ring at 
his door bell brought forth a stentorian " Come in," from his 
sleeping apartment. I obeyed the order, and as I entered, I 
could discern in the darkness the white-robed form of the 
genial captain coming to meet me, and could hear the thump- 
ity-bump of his bare feet on the floor. 

I announced myself, and he replied in his cordial, whole- 
souled way, ''Well, bully for you, Coquina, I'm devilish 
glad to see you." 

'' How do you make that out," I said, '' you haverCt seen 
me yet." 

'' Well, I'm glad you've come, all the same, and I will sqq 
you as soon as I can strike a light." 

This accomplished, we sat down and had a " big talk," 
which lasted into the early hours of the morning ere peace 
was declared, and we both sought our couches. 

The next day being Sunday, we spent it in looking about 
the post and city, and in friendly intercourse with the various 
officers at the post. I was shown three elk that are in one of 
the corrals here — two bulls and a cow. The bulls are just 
beginning to rub the velvet from their horns. The three 
were sold to a railroad officer a few days ago for fifty dollars, 
and will soon be shipped East. J^lapt. Borden had a pet 
antelope that one of his men brought in in the spring. It is a 
graceful, handsome little creature, and made a beautiful pet. 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 55 

There were a number of valuable dogs at the post, several 
of the officers being sportsmen. General Whistler, the com- 
manding officer, has a pack of greyhounds that are unusually 
fleet. His son, a young man of seventeen, is very fond of 
the chase, and under his management the pack caught 
ninety-three antelopes that season. This record cannot pro- 
bably be excelled by any other pack in the country. 

There was a large herd of buffaloes, only twenty miles 
north of the post, and I was pained to learn that a large 
party of butchers, not hunters, were camped near there, and 
were slaughtering them at the rate of nearly a hundred a day. 
Only the skins were saved, and the carcasses left to rot. Even 
the fur was worthless then. The skins were shipped East, 
and tanned as cowhide and calfskin, and used as such in the 
manufacture of boots and shoes. It is a burning shame and a 
disgrace to every citizen of this portion of the country that 
they should allow this infamous and damnable traffic to be 
carried on under their very noses, when they have the law, 
the courts, law officers, and every necessary means at their 
disposal, to stop it. It only needs some one to make a 
complaint and testify against the butchers, in order to have 
them severely punished; but no one has nerve enough, or 
feels interest enough in the matter, to go to this trouble, and 
so the slaughter will go on until the last of the noble bisons 
will fall a prey to these human coyotes, and then the '' law- 
abiding citizen" will awake to a realization of the loss that 
his stupidity has entailed upon him. He will bemoan his 
loss, but I will tell him: "It serves you right, you had 
ample warning, and would not act ; now you deserve to be 
deprived of meat of any and every kind all the days of your 
life." Congress should pass a law to prohibit this slaughter, 
and place the execution of it in the hands of the army. 
Then, and not till then, will it be stopped. 



56 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

During the day I called on General Whistler, and made 
known to him my wish to visit the Big Horn mountains, 
when he kindly offered me a packer and a number of pack 
mules to transport my provisions, camp equipage, etc. Of 
course I gladly availed myself of such a generous offer, and 
at once began preparations for the start. I also procured the 
services of Mr. L. A. Huffman, the popular and skillful pho- 
tographer of Miles City, to accompany me. 

I desired to limit the party to the smallest possible num- 
ber, in order to have as little plunder to transport as possible, 
and so reduced the party to these two men and myself. 
.Three pack mules were thought a sufficient number to carry 
our outfit. Capt. Borden generously placed at my disposal a 
saddle pony, which completed the necessary outfit for the 
expedition, and Tuesday morning, August 30, 1881,. found 
us with provisions, blankets, tents, etc., packed, our rifles 
slung to our saddles, and all ready to mount and go. 



CHAPTER VII. 

IN THE YELLOWSTONE VALLEY. • 

HOW I SHOT A DUCK — AN AUGUST THUNDER-STORM — MENU FOR AN 
EPICURE — ROSKBUD RIVER — AN OLD BATTLE FIELD — LAME DEER 
CREEK — CUSTER'S LAST CAMPING GROUND — SCARING A COYOTE — 
DOG-IN-THE-MANGER MEANNESS OF CROW INDIANS. 

We left Fort Keough on the morning of the 30th of August. 
Our route took us up the Yellowstone some twelve miles, through 
a series of as picturesque bad lands as are to be found any- 
where in the West. Their bold, rugged, ever-changing forms 
and outlines rendered an otherwise uneventful ride interest- 
ing in the extreme. 

After leaving the Yellowstone, we took a southwesterly 
direction across a series of high mesa or table lands, follow- 
ing a well-beaten wagon road, and jogged along at a rattling 
pace till three o'clock in the afternoon, when we went into 
camp near some water holes, having covered, in six hours, 
thirty miles. While we were preparing dinner a teal duck 
came and lit in one of the water holes within a few yards of 
our camp. I picked up my rifle and said I would try and 
get it. 

''Yes," said Huffman, '' you see that you do get it, and 
I'll have it in the frying pan before it's done kicking." 

I walked up so that I could look over the bank into the 

water, and saw the duck in the midst of a bunch of grass. I 

could not see his head plainly enough to shoot at it so I had 

to take his body. At the crack of the rifle one of his wings 

flew as much as twenty feet straight up into the air and other 

pieces went in difl'erent directions. Then I remembered that 

57 



58 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

I had put in an explosive ball. I picked up what was left of 
the poor little teal, but all I could find was the head and tail, 
held together by a narrow strip of skin along what had once 
been its back. All the rest had vanished into thin air, as did 
Huffman's dreams of broiled teal when I showed him the 
wreck. 

About this time I noticed a black cloud approaching from 
the west, and a few minutes later we heard distant mutterings 
of thunder. I asked Huffman if we shouldn't put up a tent. 
He said no, it wasn't going to rain ; that it rarely rained in 
this country at this season of the year. I was the more will- 
ing to believe him, for I remembered that General Hazen, 
our present chief clerk of the weather department, had told us 
some years ago that the Yellowstone valley was an arid, barren 
desert and that no rains ever fell there except in the late fall 
and early spring months. But all signs, or at least most of 
them, fail in wet weather and just as we got dinner ready, the 
sky became suddenly obscured with low, dense clouds of inky 
blackness, that rapidly changed near the horizon to a light 
colored, foamy, smoky looking mass, that whirled and rolled 
as it approached like the column of steam from one of the 
great geysers, indicating that it was accompanied with a high 
wind. The lightning played through all parts of the heavens, 
from dome to horizon, with such vivid fury as to almost blind 
us. The artillery of heaven pealed forth in volumes that 
almost shook the earth beneath our feet ; rolling, echoing and 
reverberating among the neighboring hills and over the vast 
prairies, as if sent to awaken the dead from their last sleep. 
While we were watching and listening to these demonstra- 
tions, transfixed with amazement at the unusual and almost 
unnatural phenomenon of a thunder storm here in August, 
the rain burst upon us with such violence and in such a dense 
body as almost to prostrate us at the first shock. Huffman 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 69 

and Jack Conley, our packer, sought shelter under a large 
sheet of canvas that they had hastily spread upon the appai^e- 
jos to protect them from the storm. I quickly drew on my 
rubber coat, preferring to stand out and watch the grand play 
of the elements. Our poor mules and my pony turned their 
heads toward the storm and stood and took it like veterans. 
The storm lasted about half an hour and was as violent as any 
I ever saw. When it subsided, the coulee near which we were 
camped and in which before there were only a few pools of 
water, was now alive with a roaring torrent. The country all 
about us was drenched and washed, and General Hazen, or 
any one else, need never tell us again that it don't rain in the 
Yellowstone valley in summer. 

Now that the storm was over, we began to look about us 
to see what had become of our dinner. We had no shelter to 
put it under, and were obliged to leave it to the mercy of the 
storm. We collected the fragments together, reconstructed 
them to the best of our ability, and sat down to a repast, of 
which the following is about the 

MENU. 

SOUP. 

Cold rainwater. 

MEATS. 

Breakfast bacon, rainwater sauce. 

GAME. 

Teal Duck, all shot away. 
IXl"'''} After dinner. 

ENTREES. 

Pork and Beans, soaked in rainwater. 

VEGETABLES. 

Fried Potatoes, ditto. 

BREAD. 

Hot biscuit, ditto. 

Hard tack, ditto. 

DRINKS. 

Coffee, diluted with rainwater, three to one. 

Rainwater straight. 



60 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

After dinner we put up our tent, just as some men lock up 
their barn after their best horse has been stolen. We went 
to a hay-stack near camp, and got hay for our animals and 
for beds, and slept comfortably. 

At noon the next day we reached the Rosebud river, a 
stream that has been rendered famous by the Indian cam- 
paigns of Generals Terry, Crook, Custer and Miles. Their 
trails may still be seen at frequent intervals, leading into or 
out of the valley, and remains of their old camp-fires may be 
found on every available camping-ground. The Rosebud is a 
narrow, deep, clear, swift-running stream, that looks as if it 
might bear bass, pike and other game fishes, but I am told 
that the catfish is the only species known to inhabit its waters. 
The valley is broad, level, fertile, and will eventually all be 
turned over by the plow and produce good crops. There are 
no settlements on it yet, with the exception of two or three 
cattle ranches. Several other ranches have been located, but 
the ''shacks" have not yet been built. The valley is 
enclosed on either side with a range of hills that are down 
on the map as the Rosebud mountains, though they are 
scarcely of sufficient magnitude to entitle them to such dis- 
tinction. Nearly all the peaks or buttes are capped with red, 
fire-baked clay, and the stream takes its name from the fancied 
resemblance these hills bear to rosebuds. The immediate 
banks of the stream are covered with a light growth of timber, 
mostly Cottonwood. It make good fuel, and this is about the 
only use that can be made of it, though an inferior quality of 
fence posts and railroad ties may be manufactured from it. 
None of the trees are large enough for lumber. The only 
game found on this stream, now, is deer; and they are scarce, 
owing to its having been hunted so persistently both by 
soldiers and Indians. 

At noon on the ist of September we passed a point further 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 61 

up the river, where the Bozeman expedition, a party of citi- 
zens who left Bozeman in 1874 to explore the Yellowstone val- 
ley, were corraled by Sioux Indians and besieged for several 
days. The party numbered one hundred and thirty men, 
and the rifle pits which they constructed and occupied are 
still intact. They lost a large number of horses in the fight, 
the bones of which still lie bleaching on the field. The 
Indians finally abandoned the siege and withdrew, after 
sacrificing several of their number to the deadly aim of the 
white hunters' rifles. None of the whites were injured. 

During the afternoon, we found a covey of eight sharp- 
tail grouse in the sage brush near the road, and got seven of 
them with our rifles before they got out of reach. Our large 
bore rifles cut them up pretty badly, but we managed to save 
the breasts of them all, and they made us a good supper and 
breakfast. This was the first game we had found on the trip. 

That night we camped near the mouth of Lame Deer 
creek, on the scene of Gen. Miles' fight with a band of 
Minne Conjoux and Ogelalla Sioux, under chief Lame Deer, 
in 1878. The Indians were defeated and captured. Lame 
Deer was cornered in a coulee, and seeing there was no 
chance of escape, came out and surrendered. He walked up 
to Gen. Miles ostensibly to deliver his arms to him. The 
General sat upon his horse, and, when within a few feet of 
him, Lame Deer suddenly raised his rifle, aimed it full at the 
General's breast, and fired. The General kicked the muzzle 
of the gun to one side just in time to save his own life, buL 
the ball passed by him and killed his orderly, who sat on 
another horse just behind him. The treacherous red skin 
then started to run, but a volley from the soldiers' carbines 
filled his worthless skin full of bullet-holes, and sent him over 
the divide forever. 

During the forenoon of the 2d of September we passed the 



62 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

place where poor Custer made his last camp. In the early- 
morning he had sighted the Indian village in the valley of the 
Little Big Horn, from the top of one of the peaks of the 
Wolf mountains, thirty-five miles east of here, and rode from 
there to this point oh the Rosebud, where he halted only for 
his men to make coffee — it can scarcely be called a camp, 
strictly speaking — and as soon as they had swallowed their 
frugal meal, they remounted, rode all night, and struck the 
Sioux village at daylight; with what fatal consequences to 
himself and his brave band we all know, alas ! too well. The 
remnants of their camp-fires still lie scattered over the river 
bottom, as melancholy relics of this, their last supper. Poor, 
brave boys ! little did they think, as they sipped their coffee 
and ate their hard bread around these fires, that the morrow's 
sun would shine upon their lifeless forms, and that not one of 
them would live to tell the world how his comrades fell. 

The two branches of the Rosebud unite here, and the 
locality is called the ^^ Forks of the Rosebud." We con- 
tinued our march up the south fork, as it would take us into 
the mountains farther south than would the north fork. As 
we rode leisurely along, about the middle of the afternoon a 
coyote broke cover some two hundred yards ahead of us, and 
started on his long, shambling trot across the prairie. We 
turned our artillery loose on him, and to use a frontier phrase, 
literally set the ground afire all around him. We didn't take 
the trouble to dismount, but sat in our saddles and ''fanned" 
him just for fun. We fired no less than twenty shots at him, 
and, though none of them hit him, we made it so hot for him 
that he scarcely knew which way to run. Occasionally a ball 
would strike just in front of him, plowing the dirt into his 
face, when he would change his course, and no sooner get 
started in another direction than a repetition of the offense 
would give him another whirl. Then three bullets would 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 63 

Strike on as many sides of him at once, and he would jump 
as if trying to get out of his skin. Finally, when he did get 
out of our range, he did some of the tallest running I have 
seen done in many a day, and I don't believe he stopped 
before dark that night. 

Just before going into camp that evening, we saw five 
deer standing near the foot of a hill, about six hundred yards 
away, looking at us. We all dismounted, knelt down, ad- 
justed our sights carefully to what we judged the distance to 
be, and fired at the largest buck. As our smoke cleared 
away, we sav/ him turn a somersault, and fall dead. We 
made camp, went and brought him in, and from that time on 
had plenty of fresh meat. 

The Crow Indians had burned the grass all along the 
Rosebud and Little Big Horn rivers, and on the intervening 
table-lands, so that we often had great difficulty in finding 
grazing for our animals. The country in question is covered 
by their reservation, and it is supposed that they have burned 
it to prevent the white ranchmen from grazing their cattle, 
or making hay on the reservation. They are becoming hos- 
tile toward the whites, and have ordered several parties of 
white hunters, haymakers, etc., off their land. They have 
even gone so far as to burn several stacks of hay that had 
been cut on the reservation contrary to their wishes. By 
these and other hostile demonstrations, they are brewing a 
storm over their heads that will burst upon them one of these 
days, and they will be driven off their lands as the Sioux, 
Utes, and other tribes have been in the past. The fact of 
ranchmen or military parties cutting hay on their lands is not 
a matter they should object to at all, for the grass is there, 
they (the Indians) will not cut it, and if not cut it rots or is 
burned on the ground. It is better for all concerned that it 
should be harvested and utilized, and this dog-in-the-manger 



64 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

policy of the Crows is making violent enemies of all the 
ranchmen in the surrounding country. 

As to game, there are thousands of heads of it on the 
Crow lands, and they rarely kill any except buffalo. So long 
as they can draw rations and annuities from the government, 
they will not take the trouble to hunt, further than to go out 
once or twice a year, and butcher a lot of buffaloes. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

AT THE FORKS OF THE ROSEBUD. 

GOOD LUCK WITH THE GROUSE — INTERVIEWED BY A CROW SCOUT — FIRST 
SIGHT OF THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS — THREE DEER KILLED WITH 
FOUR SHOTS, "DEUCED CLEVAH!" — FANNING THE COYOTES — ALL 
LOADED FOR BEAR — KILLED, BUT LOST AFTER ALL — WET GRO- 
CERIES FOR BREAKFAST. 

We camped at the forks of the Rosebud on the night of 
the 2d of September near the sight of General Crook's fight 
with the Sioux, on the 17th of June, 1876. The rifle pits are 
still well preserved ; the position Crook occupied can easily 
be traced by these, and various other relics that remain on 
the field. 

A covey of sharp-tailed grouse came within a few yards of 
our camp late in the evening, and with a few lucky shots we 
took the heads off of five of them. They were large and fat, 
their food being abundant on the plains this season. Their 
craws were full of grasshoppers. The feathered life of this 
region includes several varieties of hawks common to the 
Western plains, the night-hawk, magpie, Canada jay (com- 
monly called meat bird, or butcher bird), red-headed wood- 
pecker, golden-winged woodpecker, Carolina dove, brown 
thrush, catbird, red-breasted robin, blackbird, two or three 
varieties of owls; the rose-breasted grosbeak, and two or 
more varieties of sparrows. The woodpecker must here return 
to first principles, to the habits of his forefathers, and become 
again an insectivorous bird, for there is not a particle of grain 
raised within a hundred miles of here. In the settled dis' 
tricts he has almost entirely abandoned his natural food, and 
5 65 



66 IN THE BIG HORN MOUMTAINS. 

become wholly a grain eater, grain being procured with less 
labor on the farm than insects ; but the individuals of this 
species who live on the frontier seem content, like the pioneer 
of the human species, to forego the luxuries of civilization for 
the sake of carrying the standard of their race into the wilds 
of the far West. 

During the afternoon we passed the camp of a band of 
Crow Indians, under Chief Two-Bellies. A scout came out 
from the camp and rode two or three miles with us, endeavor- 
ing to find out who we were, where we were going, and what 
our object was in thus trespassing on their reservation. He 
could not, or at least pretended he could not speak or under- 
stand a word of English, and the conversation was carried on 
with him by signs. After he had obtained the information 
he came for, he asked us where we were going to camp that 
night, and said he would like to eat with us, but we told him 
we were going to ride fifteen miles yet before camping, and 
thinking that would be rather a long ride for the sake of ob- 
taining a square meal, he turned and rode back to his village. 
We expected that another party would be sent after us to 
order us off the reservation, but were agreeably disappointed. 
We should not have obeyed such an order if it had come, 
but preferred not to antagonize the lordly proprietors of the soil. 

Wild fruits were very plentiful along the Rosebud, after 
we got well up toward its head, and we feasted on plums and 
choke-cherries ; both being large, thoroughly ripe, and of 
delicious flavor. 

Having followed the Rosebud nearly to its head — to 
where it was a mere rill that one could easily step across — we 
left It early the next morning, and started across the divide to 
the Little Big Horn. We reached the top of the divide at 
ten o'clock m the forenoon, and here, for the first time, we 
saw with eager eyes what we had so long been seeking, the 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 67 

towering walls and snowcapped peaks of the Big Horn moun- 
tains. As they loomed up against the western horizon, 
clothed in green and white, and enveloped in blue and 
smoky haze, they presented a scene so grand, so beautiful, 
so enchanting, that we felt as though we could stay there and 
gaze upon them forever. We dismounted, took out the field- 
glass and surveyed with wrapt interest and admiration the 
beautiful scene. 

First there were the foothills, bold, rugged and pictur- 
esque, through which tumbled many a clear mountain torrent, 
and next were the great mountains, whose sides were covered 
with alternate areas of evergreen timber and vast meadows. 
The golden-hued. grass, which grew in these parks, waving in 
the bright sun, looked like fields of ripe grain; and great 
ledges of red sandstone or white limestone that cropped out 
here and there, seemed to be the well-appointed farmhouses 
and barns that one would naturally look for in this picture of 
agricultural luxuriance. Farther up were the tall peaks, 
towering far toward the heavens, piercing the clouds in their 
upward strides, and already draped in spotless white. It 
produces a strange sensation in the mind to stand here under 
this burning sun, with vegetation green and flowers blooming 
all around us, birds singing in every bush, and look upon 
these vast fields of snow only fifty miles away. '^ In the 
midst of summer prepare for winter" must be the motto of 
any one who starts on a tramp to the mountains, and we are 
glad when we remember that we have a full supply of heavy 
clothing and blankets with us. 

Between ourselves and the mountains lies the broad, level 
valley of the Little Big Horn, the silvery sheen of whose 
crystal fluid, glimmered and glistened in the clear sunlight as 
the river wound in and out among the groves of green trees 
that skirted its banks. 



68 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

But the objects forming this lovely picture are yet far 
away, and many a weary mile must be ridden, many a tortu- 
ous coulee or gulch must be threaded, and many a steep hill 
climbed ere we shall set foot on the happy hunting ground 
that now unfolds itself so invitingly before us. So Jack and 
Huffman take a pull at the ropes to tighten up the loads on 
our pack mules and we spring into our saddles and ride away 
at a brisk trot, down the long slope on the western side of 
the divide. 

There are some fine agricultural lands on this slope. The 
soil is light but rich, the ground just rolling enough to carry 
off the water readily, and in nearly every one of the many 
coulees with which it is drained there runs a stream of clear, 
cold, pure spring water. By means of these the tablelands 
could easily be irrigated, if necessary, and there is a good 
supply of timber along the small streams for fuel. Bunch or 
buffalo grass stands thick and heavy here, affording the best 
of grazing. We crossed Owl creek near its head. Its waters 
are very clear and cold and it doubtless bears trout, though 
we didn't stop to investigate the matter. 

As we were riding down a hill toward one of the coulees, 
three mule deer jumped out of the brush, dashed over the 
next ridge and were out of sight before we could get a shot 
at them. We put spurs to our animals and galloped to the 
top of the ridge, but they were nowhere to be seen. We 
knew, though, that they must have hidden in the next 
coulee, as they had not had time to go farther without our 
seeing them when we reached the top of the ridge, so we 
separated, Jack riding to the. head of the coulee, Huffman 
toward the mouth, and each dismounted to wait for the game 
to come out. I rode down to the coulee and followed it up 
to where Jack was without jumping any game ; then we both 
rode down on opposite sides and when within a short dis- 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 69 

tance of where Huffman stood the game broke cover and 
started over the next ridge, but at the crack of Huffman's 
rifle the leader, a magnificent buck, staggered, stumbled, 
swayed to and fro, and after a dozen or more jumps, fell with 
a bullet through his shoulder. Ping ! went Jack's carbine, 
and the doe turned completely over with a broken neck. 
My old pill-driver woke the echoes among the far-away foot- 
hills, and as the smoke cleared away I saw the dust and 
stones waltzing around in the air just beyond where the deer 
had been, but he was going toward the top of the ridge with 
something like the speed of the late comet. In my haste I 
had shot over or under him, I couldn't tell which, but the 
next shot proved more lucky, for just as he reached the top of 
the ridge an explosive bullet caught him high up in the 
shoulder, splintering both shoulder blades and breaking his 
spine. He was a good-sized spike buck. We formed a 
mutual admiration society at once and proceeded to con- 
gratulate each other on our good shooting. It certainly was 
*' deuced clevah," for here lay three deer within fifty yards 
of each other, killed with four shots, and all on the jump. 

We reached the Little Big Horn at four o'clock in the 
afternoon, and went into camp near the mouth of Pass creek. 
There had been a large band of Indians encamped at this 
point only a few days before, and we were afraid they had 
driven the gam.e all out of the valley, but were agreeably dis- 
appointed, as the sequel will show. Early the next morning, 
September 4th, we moved up the Little Big Horn, and during 
the day jumped at least twenty deer, but did not shoot at 
them as we had all the venison we wanted. We also jumped 
three coyotes during the day, and never let an opportunity 
slip to fan them. We killed the third one at two hundred 
yards or over. We were all shooting at him, but from the 
appearance of the hole in his ribs when we held the/^j-/ mortem 



70 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

examination, we decided it was made with Huffman's .44 
caliber Kennedy. The pestiferous Crows had burned the 
valley all over, and we had trouble in finding a spot that had 
escaped the fire, where our poor animals could graze during 
the night. 

We at last found a small patch of grass, however, that had 
escaped the fire by being surrounded with thickets of green 
hazel-brush, through which the fire would not run, and here 
we made camp. Just before reaching this place we saw the 
first bear sign of the trip. This caused our temperature to 
rise several degrees, for bear was the very game we most de- 
sired to find. We ''hadn't lost no bar," but still we were all 
loaded for bear, and were anxious to find some. We corraled 
a covey of prairie-chickens just before going into camp, and 
got seven of them. We made our camp on the top of a 
ridge, near a small stream that empties into the river. The 
weather was clear and beautiful, so we thought it unnecessary 
to put up a tent'. 

While the other boys were getting dinner I took a stroll 
up the little creek on which we were camped^ and saw plenty 
of bear sign. They had bent or broken down nearly all the 
choke-cherry and plum trees, and their tracks were numerous 
at every place where the ground was soft enough to show 
them. Plums and choke-cherries are abundant all along the 
river, and the bears are coming down from the mountains 
now to harvest them. We feasted on the plums all a.long the 
trip. When I got back to camp Huffman was singing j 

" Shall we gather at the river, 
Yes, we shall gather at the river." 

*' What shall we gather at the river? " I asked. 

*' Plums," said he. 

''That will just cost you fellows thirty days in the guard- 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. '71 

house when we get back to the post, and don't you forget 
it," said Jack. 

After dinner we started out in different directions to look 
for game. I went up the river about a mile, and then turned 
into the thickets. Bear signs were plentiful at every turn, 
and many of them fresh. I felt sure I should find old big 
Moccasin Joe, as they call him out here, before night. I 
hunted along down the river till just at sunset, when I saw a 
large cinnamon-bear on the side of a steep bluff upon the 
opposite side of the river, turning over rocks and rustling for 
his chuck. He was about two hundred and fifty yards away, 
and there was a large swamp between us, so that I could get 
no closer without going a long way around the swamp. I 
was afraid to undertake that for I should have to lose sight of 
him awhile, and fearing he might stray off during that time, 
I decided to shoot from where I was. I elevated to what I 
judged the distance to be, knelt down and fired. I didn't 
see the first ball strike, and so concluded it must have passed 
over him and gone into some brush beyond. He paid no 
attention to it. I held a little lower and fired again. This 
time I saw the ball strike just under him and explode. I 
think a piece of the bullet must have struck him, or else the 
explosion knocked a small stone against him, for he jumped 
and disappeared in the brush close by. I supposed, of 
course, he was gone, and took out my field-cleaner to wipe 
my rifle, but before I got through with it he returned to the 
same place, and went to work again. I now had my ele- 
vation exactly, and I knew that I could hit him this time, so 
I took a careful aim, just behind the shoulder (he stood 
broadside to me), held about eight inches higher on him 
than at the last shot, and when old pill-driver spoke to him 
this time he reared up, turned half around, plunged forward, 
then fell backward, and rolled with a crashing, thrashing 



72 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

noise that I could hear distinctly where I stood, down the 
hillside, and disappeared in the thick brush. I slipped 
another cartridge into my rifle and started after him. I first 
went to the right of the slough, but encountered a jungle 
that was well nigh impassable, and returning, circled around 
it to the left. This was a long, tedious, and difficult route, 
but by hard work I at last got through one of the thickets, 
waded the river, and then after another siege of crawling, 
climbing and cutting my way, during which every minute 
seemed an hour lest my game should escape, I at last reached 
the place where old Joe stood when the battle opened. His 
pathway through the brush, where he rolled down the hill, 
was strewn with blood. I followed it, hoping to find him 
dead at the foot of the hill, but unfortunately there was a 
wide fissure in the rock near the foot, about thirty feet deep, 
into which he had fallen. I could plainly see the lifeless 
form of the great monster lying there among the rocks at the 
bottom of the cavern, but the walls were perpendicular, with 
scarcely any projections, so that it was impossible to reach 
him, and I was compelled to return to camp empty handed. 
We compared notes around a bright camp fire for an 
hour, and then turned in. About midnight it clouded up, 
and a quiet, but steady, heavy fall of rain set in. Huffman 
and I awoke and surveyed the situation, but we had a large, 
heavy piece of canvas spread over us, and after discussing the 
probabilities for a few minutes, concluded we were safe, and 
went to sleep again. Later in the night we were again 
awakened by the water running under us, and our blankets 
were saturated, but it was too dark and damp to get up then, 
so we laid like a warrior taking his rest, and weathered the 
storm till daylight, when we all got up, wrung the water out 
of our blankets, or as much of it as possible, and packed up. 
The heavens continued to weep, and we had wet groceries 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 1S 

for breakfasty mostly. The alkali mud stuck to our feet, as 
we tramped around, like warm wax, and large quantities of 
grass, mixing in with it, our feet looked more like bales of 
hay, than like the pedal extremities of human beings. Our 
poor mules shivered in the cold rain, and were anxious to 
get started. 

We moved out at eight o'clock, and at three in the after- 
noon camped among the foothills, within a mile of the 
mouth of the canyon of the Little Big Horn river, where it 
comes out of the mountains. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUND. 

HUFFMAN KILLS A GRIZZLY — A NIGHT IN WET BLANKETS — A RACE 
FOR THE AXE — GRAND SPORT — HUNTING THROUGH THE SNOW — 
EFFECTIVENESS OF THE EXPLOSIVE BULLET. 

It was with feelings of the greatest delight that we built 
our camp-fire near the head of the Little Big Horn river, for we 
were well aware that we had now reached the happy hunting 
ground for which we had been toiling through hot sands, over 
barren plains and fruitless bad lands for these many days. 
From this time forward, for at least ten days to come, we 
were to be in the midst of the haunts of large game, and if 
we did not succeed in taking a reasonable quantity of it we 
could only blame our lack of skill in hunting it. 

After we had made camp, Huffman and Jack got out some 
fishing tackle, and took a few magnificent mountain trout 
from the stream within a few rods of our camp, and we dined 
off them with a relish begotten by the day's labor and the 
fresh mountain breeze that swept down the valley. After 
dinner Huffman and I took our rifles and sallied forth in 
search of game — Huffman going up the stream and I down. 

I returned to camp shortly after dark, empty handed, but 
was glad to learn that Huffman, who preceded me, had been 
more fortunate, having killed a large grizzly bear before he 
had gone a mile from camp. He had jumped the old planti- 
grade on the bank of the river. The bear showed fight at the 
first shot, but some lively music from the Kennedy rifle soon 
quieted his belligerent propensities, and laid him a corpse at 

the feet of his foe. 

74 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 75 

It has rained nearly all day to-day and continues to rain 
to-night, so that there is no possibility of drying our blankets, 
as we had intended to do, and we have no alternative — there 
is no escape from it — we must sleep in wet blankets to-night. 
It is a gloomy prospect, and no mistake. The cold chills run 
up and down our backs as we think of it, and whenever any 
one mentions it, a groan escapes from the other two. The 
mercury has crawled down (or would crawl down if there were 
any mercury in this region) to the freezing point, and a 
violent snow-storm has set in. The wind sucks down through 
the canyon just back of our camp, and moans through the 
cottonwoods, driving the snow in blinding clouds' through 
the brush, over the hills, and heaping it on our fire in such 
quantities that it soon drowned it out. 

*' Well, what shall we do now? " 

'^Go to bed, I suppose," said Huffman, drawing a deep 
sigh, and proceeding, with the aid of a forked limb, to extract 
his boots, which were as wet as the snow and water in which 
he had been wading, could make them. I struck a match and 
looked at my watch. It was nine o'clock. 

^' Well, Huffman," I said, " we shall only have nine hours 
to wait until daylight, and then we can get up and make a 
fire again." 

*' Nine hours in those wet blankets, this cold, stormy 
night ! " said he, with another sigh. " I wish the man who 
invented hunting was in Greenland, and had to sleep on an 
iceberg to-night." 

" And I wish we were all in Florida," said Jack. 

We had made our camp where a band of Crow Indians 
had camped a few days'before. They had left some of their 
wiciup poles in position, and we had spread our canvas 
over them, thus making a very close, comfortable shelter, if 
not as roomy as we might wish for. Huffman and I crawled 



76 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

into our wiciup, and Jack into his. Our clothing was all 
soaked with water from being in the rain the most of the day, 
and tramping through wet brush and grass on our evening 
hunt. We kept it all on, removing only our boots and hats. 
Our blankets were so wet and heavy that they stuck to us like 
a bathing-suit. Our bones ached and our teeth chattered, 
and, if we hadn't been so cold we couldn't talk, we might 
have made some remarks about the weather that wouldn't 
look well in print. 

We finally got reconciled to our fate, however, and went 
to sleep, if being stupefied from the effects of hard work and 
cold water can be called sleep. Along in the night some- 
time — I should think about one or two o'clock — Huffman 
woke up, shivering and groaning some more. He seemed to 
have a relapse of cold. He said he couldn't stand this sort 
of luxury any longer, and was going to get up and start a 
fire. I told him he couldn't start a fire, that the wood was 
all covered with snow and ice ; but he said he'd try it, any- 
way, so he got up and did try it, but it was no go. The cold 
air outside was worse than the wet clothing and blankets 
within, and he was soon glad to plunge into the shack and 
bury himself in them again. 

" C-c-c-con-d-d-d-dem such a c-c-c-condemned c-c-c- 
country as th-th-this, anyway !" said he, his teeth chattering 
like the ^' music" of a snare drum. ^^ If any man ever 
c-c-catches me starting to these d-d m-m-m-mountains 
again, I hope he'll p-p-put me in the g-g-guard-house for six 
months." 

I really felt alarmed for him, for I feared he might have 
a conjestive chill, or something as serious, but he finally be- 
came more comfortable, and dozed off to sleep again. We 
hailed the first dawn of day with a sigh of relief, and as soon 
as it was light enough to see to get about, we were all out 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. ^7 

pulling on our frozen boots. Usually, every man in camp 
shuns the axe, but this morning there was a race to see who 
could get hold of it first, for we all felt that it would thaw us 
out quicker than anything else ; we took turns at chopping, 
carrying wood and running until we got a fire started, and 
then piled on dry cottonwood logs and limbs until we soon 
had a roaring fire, and were standing around it drying and 
warming ourselves. 

We made a pot of coffee so strong that it swelled our ears ; 
baked some bread, broiled some choice venison steaks, and 
were soon discussing a most wholesome breakfast. As we be- 
came comfortable, and even jovial, we enjoyed the scene 
around us. The snow-storm was premature. The leaves had 
not yet fallen from the trees. The wind had ceased early in 
the night, and the snow had piled up light and feather-like 
upon the leaves until the boughs were bent down by its 
weight. The mountain sides are covered with a thick growth 
of pine timber, the tops of the ridges being bare. All these 
trees were heavily clad in their mantle of spotless white, and 
the contrasts between green, gray, brown, golden and other 
colors, furnished by the autumn foliage, and the snow, made 
a grand picture. 

While we were preparing breakfast, a fawn, attracted by 
the noise, came to the top of the long ridge, on the right of 
our camp, and gazed curiously down upon us for several 
seconds. Outlined against the gray sky he made a beautiful 
picture. I was chopping wood some distance from camp 
when he first appeared, and called to Huffman and Jack, who 
were near the fire. They sprang for their guns as soon as 
they saw him, but by this time his curiosity was satisfied, and 
he bounded away and disappeared behind the hill before 
they could get a shot. 

Breakfast over, Huffman and I hurried into the timber in 



78 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



opposite directions to utilize the heavy snow in tracking game. 
We had not gone half a mile before I heard three shots from 
his rifle in quick succession, followed by a shout of exulta- 
tion, which I knew meant that he had drawn a prize. I hur- 
ried in the direction whence the sounds came, and soon found 




HUFFMAN'S PRIZE. 



him leaning complacently on his rifle, gazing admiringly on 
the prostrate form of a monster bull elk that had fallen a prey 
to his deadly aim. 

After hastily examining his trophy, and, congratulating 
him upon his skill and good luck, I turned away down the 
stream, leavmg him and Jack, who had also been attracted to 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 79 

the spot by the noise, to take the game into camp. I found 
deer signs very plentiful in the fresh snow, but didn't follow 
any particular trail, as I felt confident of finding game as 
soon by keeping straight ahead as by trailing. 

I had walked perhaps two miles, when, as I was passing 
over a low ridge, three deer jumped from their beds in some 
hazel brush at my right and started across an open swale 
toward the heavy timber, which was about two hundred yards 
away. The deer were about a hundred yards from me when 
I first saw them. I paid my compliments to an old buck 
first, then to a yearling buck, and as these two went to grass 
in short order, the third, a handsome doe, stopped broadside 
to me to wait for her companions. I dropped on my knee to 
make sure of her, but in the excitement of the moment forgot 
to make any allowance for the fact that she was seventy or 
eighty yards farther away than the others when I shot at 
them, and, firing without any elevation, had the gloomy satis- 
faction of seeing the snow fly just beyond her in a position 
that told me at once my ball had dropped below her. In a 
second more she was out of sight in the thick brush. 

I then went to where the old buck was when I first fired 
and saw hair scattered over the snow in every direction, some 
of it ten feet away. I glanced eagerly along his trail, and 
where he lit on the first jump after the ball struck him I saw 
blood. At the second jump a perfect shower of blood had 
been blown from his nostrils, crimsoning the snow on both 
sides of his trail, while a stream had also spurted from the 
wound. 

''That settles it," thought I. ''Through the lungs and 
he can't go far." 

I moved eagerly forward, but before I had gone a dozen 
steps I fairly stumbled over his lifeless body, where it lay all 
doubled up in a clump of thick bushes. I then retraced 



80 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

and counted his tracks. He had made just four jumps from 
where the ball struck him, and had fallen stone dead, for the 
snow where he lay showed that he had not moved a foot after 
he fell. 

So much for the effectiveness of the explosive bullet. I 
examined the wound and found that the ball had entered his 
flank just behind the last rib (he was running quartering from 
me) had exploded on entering the bod)^ blown a large hole 
through the skin a few inches ahead of where it entered, and 
passing on diagonally through his chest, had lodged near the 
point of the opposite shoulder. With this same shot from a 
solid bullet, he would have run anywhere from three hundred 
yards to a mile, but with this explosive missile his intestines, 
lungs, liver, and other internal improvements were so muti- 
lated, that if he had been a buffalo or a grizzly he could not 
have survived the shock much longer than he did. And this 
was done with a .40 caliber rifle, which brother Van Dyke 
protests is no account for anything larger than a jack rabbit 
or a woodchuck. 

I next took up the trail of the young buck, and when I 
reached the place where he was when I shot, was rewarded by 
finding plenty of hair and two or three small pieces of flesh 
on the snow. Ten feet further on, the crimson fluid had 
gushed from the wound in a stream that showed unmistakably 
that that animal's career was soon to be drawn to a close also. 
But I had not given him so dead a shot as the other one, and 
he led me a most tedious chase through the thick underbrush 
before I succeeded in overtaking him. When I did reach 
him, I found that I had also hit him in the flank low down, 
and, as he was running broadside to me, the ball passed 
through him at right angles, coming out on the opposite side. 
It had exploded when it struck, however, and torn a hole 
through him that you could easily have passed an ordinary 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS 81 

teacup through. So large was the opening, in fact, that a 
fold of one of the larger entrails dropped through on the side 
where the ball passed out, and dragged in the snow until the 
deer fell, when I came up and dispatched him. And yet 
nothing short of a .65 caliber cannon, with an expansive 
bullet, is fit to shoot deer with ! Oh, no, of course not ! 

I went to camp, when Jack put an apparejo on one of the 
mules, and w^e returned and brought both of the deer in. 
Later in the day we dragged the elk and bear both in by 
means of a rope made fast to the pommel of a saddle, and 
when arrayed before our wiciups they presented an array 
that caused our hearts to swell with pride. 

We then skinned the game, took the choicest cuts of the 
meat, and after partaking of a hearty dinner, broke camp 
and began the ascent of the mountain. 

The clouds had now entirely disappeared, and the sun 
shone forth from a clear sky, giving a most brilliant effect to 
the scene before us, but the bright glare soon became painful 
to our eyes. 



CHAPTER X. 

THROUGH THE CANYON OF THE LITTLE BIG HORN. 

AN ADVENTURE WITH NIG — THE PHOTOGRAPHIC OUTFIT IN PERIL — 

HUFFMAN FRANTIC — NIG LANDS THE CARGO SAFELY — HUFFMAN 

.GRUMBLES, I PHILOSOPHIZE — A HERD OF MULE DEER — GROWTHS 

OF PINE TIMBER — FINE SPORT WITH A MOUNTAIN BUFFALO — THE 

IDEAL hunter's CAMP. 

In our windings through the canyon of the Little Big 
Horn, we were obliged to cross the stream several times 
during the afternoon. It is a veritable torrent here, boiling 
and foaming over its rough bed of boulders and broken 
ledges of red sandstones. Its pure liquid is as clear as crystal 
and as cold as ice. You would never recognize it as the 
same dull, leaden-hued stream along whose banks we have 
been wending our weary way for several days past. 

And this recalls to my mind an incident of the trip that 
must not be overlooked. Soon after leaving the forks of the 
stream, we reached a point where it became necessary to cross 
it in order to avoid a long detour around a bend. We there- 
fore selected the most favorable point we could find — a place 
where the banks were low and the water not more than two 
feet deep — and started in with Huffman in the lead. I 
followed him with Blinkie, my white pony, and the pack 
mules followed me, Jack remaining for the time in the rear 
to drive them across. Chicken, one of the pack mules, 
crossed and climbed the bank all right, when Nig, a large 
black mule, who was always disposed to be willful and con- 
trary, and who was never willing to follow his file leader 
when he saw an opportunity of making an annoying 



p^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 



1: 



•!,;!'iiiil!lii:' 



"I:; 




iiillliiiiiiiilll 



«i^ 



84 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

''break," walked down the first bank into the water, then 
turned and waded slowly and deliberately down the stream 
toward a deep hole that lay a few yards below the crossing. 
His load consisted principally of Huffman's photographic 
outfit, camera, dry plates, dark tent, etc. ; and when Huffman 
saw that they were placed in jeopardy — that the dry plates 
were in imminent danger of being transformed into wet 
plates by a process that would render them utterly worthless 
to him — that the camera was liable to be soaked with water 
and ruined — he became frantic. 

He dismounted and rushed madly down the bank of the 
stream, yelling, throwing clubs, trying in every possible way 
to head Nig off; but the ugly brute would not head worth a 
cent. He looked mildly at the woe-begone artist out of his 
left eye, stopped and drank a few swallows of water, took a 
step or two, and looked again, first at Huffman and then at 
Jack, who was on the opposite side of the river, shouting, 
and throwing clubs, rocks and other debris at the long-eared 
vandal. 

"Jack!" shouted the artist, ''drive that cantankerous 
brute out of that deep water, quick, or he'll drown my photo- 
graph gallery ! Jump in and catch him — quick ! Blank blank 
that blanked long-eared son-of-a-gun to blankety blank ! ' ' 

" Jump in yourself," said Jack, " I don't want to get my 
feet wet." 

And still the mule moved slowly down the stream, every 
step taking him into deeper water, bringing his precious load, 
valued at three hundred dollars, nearer and nearer to the 
destroying element, while an artist to the mountains bound 
cries, " Conley, do not tarry and I'll give thee a silver dollar 
to drive that doggoned mule o'er the ferry." 

"Now, who be ye would cross Big Horn, this deep and 
muddy water?" 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 85 

** Oh, I'm the artist from Miles City, and this my 
precious plunder. And fast upon these saddle mules three 
days we've rode together, and should he wet them in the 
creek they wouldn't be worth a feather." 

Outspoke the hardy Emerald wight, " I'll go, my chief, 
I'm ready. It is not for your dollar, bright, but for some 
pretty pictures ; and by my word, that cussed mule in the 
water shall not tarry, — so though the waves are raging white, 
I'll drive him over the ferry or break his blanked neck! 
G'lang, Nig, git out of there, you son-of-a-gun ! " But still, 
as wilder blew the wind, and as the artist grew madder, 
adown the stream walked that pesky mule where the water 
still was deeper. 

*'0h, haste thee, haste!" the artist cries. *' Though 
tempests round us gather, I'll meet the raging of the 
water, but if I lose that outfit I'll walk home to-night." 

The mule has left a sultry land, a cool bath is before him, 
when oh ! too strong for human hands, he don't care how 
many clubs come o'er him. And still they howled amidst 
the roar of waters fast prevailing, the artist reached that fatal 
shore, his wrath was changed to wailing. For sore dismayed 
through storm and shade his mule he did discover, one lovely 
hand he stretched for the bridle but, oh, he couldn't reach it. 

''Come back, come back," he cried in grief across this 
muddy river, ''and I'll forgive the wayward cuss, my 
donkey, oh, my donkey." 'Twas vain; the loud waves 
lashed his sides, return or aid suggesting, the waters wild 
kind o' frightened him, and he turned and came out on the 
bank o. k. . 

We took his load off, opened it, and found that though 
the lower corners of both boxes were wet, the moisture had 
not reached their contents. We congratulated Huffman on 
the fact that his dry goods were still dry — that his stock 



86 . IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

had not been watered, so to speaK — and went on our way 
rejoicing. 

During the afternoon of September 6th we toiled up through 
canyons and over divides and ridges, still climbing higher 
and higher, until the atmosphere became so rare that neither 
we nor our animals could walk more than a few rods at a time 
without stopping to rest. We walked and led our saddle 
animals nearly all the afternoon, owing to this fact and the 
extremely difficult nature of the trails over which we were 
passing. At about four o'clock we reached an open park on 
the top of one of the highest ridges in that part of the range, 
and finding there a good, heavy growth of grass which, 
fortunately, had not been burned, we decided to make our 
camp there. There was no water near, but the snow, which 
covered the ground to a depth of six inches, furnished a very 
good substitute. 

We found an abundance of dry pine-knots and whole 
trunks of fallen pine-trees on the rocks near us, and in a few 
minutes had a roaring fire, and our wet blankets hanging all 
around it. We didn't care to take a cold bath in them that 
night, and so watched and turned them attentively all the 
evening, until they were thoroughly dry. Our animals ate 
snow to quench their thirst, and then pawed the snow away so 
that they could get at the grass. They had all seen plenty of 
this kind of life in years past, and so lost no time in looking 
for better fare, but went vigorously to work, and before dark 
their protruding sides showed that they were in tall clover. 

We melted snow to do our cooking with, and for water to 
drink. Our position gave us a fine view of the surrounding 
country. We could trace the route over which we had 
traveled for several days past through the warm, green valley 
of the Little Big Horn, across the broad divide and far down 
the now beautiful valley of the Rosebud; over all of which 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 87 

the low, descending sun threw its golden light, forming a 
most fascinating picture, and one in strong contrast to the 
bleak, snow-covered hills around us. Away to the north 
stretched the valley of the Big Horn, and with the aid of a 
powerful glass we could easily see the tents and buildings at 
Fort Custer, nearly sixty miles away. 

To the south our vision followed the eastern base of the 
range, across the headwaters of Tongue and Powder rivers to 
Fort McKinney, and away toward the Union Pacific railroad. 

^'What," said I, ''will the officers at Fort Custer think if 
they see our camp-fire to-night? They will think it a party of 
Crow Indians, will they not?" 

''No," said Huffman, " they know that no Crow is fool 
enough to be caught in such a country as this over night. 
They'll know it's some crazy white men, and don't you for- 
get it. Ah, what a fool a man will make of himself for the 
sake of a little fun. The idea of tramping over these dry, 
hot plains, climbing these mountains, wading snow, eating 
snow, sleeping in snow, and half freezing to death for the sake 
of killing a few deer and bears. It's too high for me." 

" Well," I said, "the game is worth to me all it costs. If 
we could stand in our front door and kill these animals in our 
yard, we would think it no sport at all, but the harder you 
have to work for your game the more you appreciate it when 
you get it. And if we found no game, the novelty of our 
mode of travel, the grand scenery, the health-giving exercise, 
the invigorating atmosphere would well repay me for all the 
labor and hardships we endure." 

" These scenes in glowing colors dressed, 
Mirror the life within my breast, 

Its world of hopes ; 
The whispering woods and fragrant bjeeze. 
That stir the grass in verdant seas, 

On billowy slopes, 



88 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

" And glibtening crag in sunlit sky, 
'Mid snowy clouds piled mountain high, 

Are joys to me; 
My pathway o'er the prairie wide, 
Or here on grander mountain's side 

To choose all free." 

As the shades of the evening deepened, we gathered large 
quantities of pine-boughs, spread them upon the snow, laid 
pur blankets thereon, turned in and spread the heavy can- 
vas over us. Although the temperature went far below the 
freezing point during the night, we slept comfortably and 
soundly. The next day we continued the ascent of the 
mountain, after Huffman had made some fine views of scenery 
in the canyons near our camp. During the forenoon we saw 
plenty of deer sign and some elk sign. We killed durijig 
the morning several mountain grouse (^Tetrao obscurus), the 
first we had seen on the trip. In the afternoon as we were 
crossing a series of beautiful parks — that is, small open 
prairies in the pine forest, we jumped a herd of six mule 
deer. Jack and Huffman were riding in front at the time, 
and I in the rear, so that they got all the shooting. . Huffman 
got a doe and a large fawn, and Jack a fine large buck. 

We took their entrails out and loaded them on the pack 
mules. We bore to the southward to some coulees, in hopes 
of finding water, but were disappointed, and had to make 
another snow camp for that night. After dinner I went west 
about a mile and saw numerous signs of buffaloes and elk, 
though I did not succeed in getting a shot, but felt great 
hopes that we should in the morning. 

We made an early start on the morning of the 8th, mov- 
ing in a northwesterly direction, and at about a mile from 
camp passed a boundary post showing the territorial boundary 
line between Wyoming and Montana, and showing us that we 
had spent the night in Wyoming. We now, however, passed 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 89 

back into Montana again. The mountains are thickly covered 
along the eastern side with pine timber, mostly small, from 
three to twelve inches in diameter, and six to fifty feet high. 
This timber would be useful for fence posts, railroad ties, 
telegraph poles, etc., if it could be gotten out, but will prob- 
ably not be used for many years to come on account of the 
great labor and expense that would have to be incurred in 
getting it out. There are no streams large enough to raft it 
on, and hauling by teams down through the moun- 
tains would be slow and tedious, not to say hazardous. 
To build a railroad to this locality would cost so much 
that it will be a long time before capitalists will be 
found to fiirni h the funds for such an undertaking. In some 
localities the timber runs larger than that I have described. 
We have seen a few trees that would cut several hundred feet 
of clear lumber each, but they are not numerous at this high 
altitude. The numerous small parks or meadows, which are 
covered with a superior quality of grass and surrounded by 
this thick growth of timber, make this a favorite resort for 
large game in the winter season. The only drawback to its 
being a fine grazing country for cattle is the heavy snow-falls 
in winter at this altitude. 

Near the top of the range we found a fresh track of a 
mountain buffalo. We dismounted, picketed our animals, 
and followed his trail. When we found that we were very 
near him and saw by his track that he was feeding, we 
deployed. Jack going to the left of the trail, I to the right, 
and leaving Huffman to follow on the trail. I made a bee 
line for a high crag a quarter of a mile ahead, and had no 
sooner reached the top of it than I saw him quietly grazing 
and browsing on some weeds among the rocks, about a 
hundred and fifty yards to my left. I dropped on one knee, 
drew a bead on him and pulled. I distinctly heard the dull 



90 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

" whack " of the ball as it struck him, and saw his tail switch 
quickly over his back as if he were ''shooing" a fly away. 
He turned and plunged madly over the rocks in the opposite 
direction, when the sharp "ping" of Jack's carbine from 




AFTER THE RACE. 



that quarter, and the "crack," "crack," of Huffman's rifle 
from below, all told that he was on very hot ground. He 
turned and made a few lunges toward me again, but his 
leaden load was already too heavy for him to carry, and he 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 91 

fell and expired within twenty feet of where he stood when I 
gave him the first round. He was a large, finely-formed, 
noble-looking animal. His fur is finer, darker and curls 
more than that of the plains buffalo, and he usually ranges 
alone or in pairs, while his cousin of the prairies is strictly 
gregarious 

From the top of the peak on the left of and near where 
our noble bison fell we enjoyed one of the grandest scenes in 
the Western country. Away across to the south and west we 
see the snow-capped peaks of the Wind River mountains 
already mentioned, while to the west rise the great domes, 
walls and peaks of the Rocky range. Blue and smoky 
though they seem, still we can plainly see the snow, and 
through the glass can distinguish the timber from the bare 
rocky earth above the timber line. We can locate several of 
the peaks in and surrounding the national park, a hundred 
and thirty miles away. To the north and west loom up the 
Snow mountains, and still further north the Crazy moun- 
tains — all belonging to the Rocky system. Intermediate 
between us and them flow, besides the streams already men- 
tioned, the different branches of Pryor's river, Clark's fork, 
Rocky fork, and others, all of which empty into the 
Yellowstone, whose course we can trace far up toward its 
source and away down toward its mouth. 

We saw signs of mountain sheep during the day, but none 
of the "critters" themselves. We moved northward along 
the top of the range, and in the afternoon crossed down on 
to the western slope, where we found a large spring and 
camped. To our surprise our mules and pony were not 
thirsty at all, notwithstanding they had lived two days and 
nights without water, having eaten snow only as a means of 
queinching thirst. They drank but little here, and seemed to 
care very little whether they drank any or not. But for 



f2 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

ourselves we were delighted to get a drink of straight spring 
water again after our long dependence on its best substitute. 
We made an ideal ^' hunter's camp" that night. Built a 
large fire of pine knots in the midst of a dense pine thicket, 
and were as comfortable as we could wish to be under the 
circumstances. We slept better on our bed of pine boughs 
than we could have slept on a feather bed or hair mattress at 
home, without the toil, the mountain air, and the sport of 
that day. Another heavy fall of snow during the night, 
which continued through a greater portion of the day. After 
breakfast we talked of a programme for the day, but the boys 
said they didn't care to go out while it stormed so hard. I 
was loth to lose any time, however, and so started about six 
o'clock to see what I could find. 



CHAPTER XI. 

A GRAND DAY'S SPORT. 

AN EXCITING CHASE — A LEAP FOR LIFE — ALL A MAN WANTS IS 
"sand" — OVER THE MOUNTAIN WALL — THE CHASE GROWS 
INTERESTING — ANOTHER LEAP FOR LIFE — I FOLLOW MY LEADER 
— RUN TO COVER AT LAST — I DRINK TO THE MEMORY OF THE 
DEPARTED — MORE SPORT — OLD PLANTIGRADE AND HER CUBS — 
LOADED FOR BEAR — THE WHOLE FAMILY KILLED — HOME TO CAMP. 

The first signs of sport I saw as I journeyed forth alone 
were those of half a dozen mule deer, commonly (but erro- 
neously) called on the frontier, black-tail deer. The tracks 
showed that the deer had been ranging about leisurely feeding. 
I selected the track of the largest buck, and, following it 
perhaps half a mile, jumped him, but in thick brush so that I 
failed to get a shot. He bounded away through the thicket 
and broke cover at a distance of half a mile from me. As he 
passed over an open ridge I saw that he was a remarkably 
large, fine buck, and that his capture would well repay a long 
and arduous chase. I had often heard it , asserted that a 
hunter who possessed sufficient power of endurance, enthu- 
siasm and '' sand" could run a deer down; that the largest 
and strongest of the species would not run more than twenty 
to thirty miles until he would become so exhausted that he 
would lag, lie down, and thus give the hunter an easy oppor- 
tunity to approach and kill him. 

I stopped and contemplated the chances of such an 
undertaking. A stern chase is always a long chase, and when 
the slow and steady stride of a man is matched against the 
fleet-footed bound of the wild and wary stag it must indeed 

93 



94 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

be doubly so. But think of those noble antlers added to my 
collection of trophies and specimens at home. 

How proudly would I hang my hat upon them in the hall 
as I returned at night from my day's work at the office. And 
how serenely could I rest upon that glossy coat as it formed a 
covering for my favorite easy-chair. I am hooked up for a 
long tramp. It is early in the morning, and I have eaten 
such a breakfast as only a man can eat who has been cam- 
paigning in these mountains, and who sits down in the early 
morn to a plate smoking with the fruits of his own rifle. The 
weather is cold, the air clear, bracing and exhilarating, and I 
decide here and now to settle the question to my own satis- 
faction, as to whether I at least can run down and kill a deer 
in a fair chase. 

I took up the trail and followed it across the ridge, 
through sage-brush, for a mile or more to where it entered a 
body of pine timber. Up to this point the deer had kept up 
his long jumps of about fifteen feet each, but as soon as he 
entered the timber he slackened his pace to a walk, and a few 
hundred yards further on stopped and turned to look back. 
I made no effort to steal up and get a shot but walked briskly 
on, only taking note of the trail sufficiently to follow it. As 
soon as he obtained sight of me, or heard me approaching he 
again bounded away, and, now appearing to realize the fact 
that he was pursued, he plunged swiftly on, as if bound to 
distance his pursuer and make good his escape at a single 
effort. 

He took a southerly direction, keeping just below and on 
the west side of the crest of the range, and for two or three 
miles I followed the trail before I saw any evidence of his 
slackening speed. But at last the jumps began to grow 
shorter, gradually dropping into a trot and finally into a 
walk. This was kept up for .another mile, when I came tg 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 95 

where he had agam stopped to take breath. From this point 
a repetition of the long jumps showed that he had again 
taken alarm at the sound of my coming and skipped out. 

Now more thoroughly alarmed than ever, and convinced 
that desperate measures were necessary in order to elude me, 
he changed his course to the westward and started for a great 
canyon that opened near the top of the range. He plunged 
wildly forward through sage-brush, greasewood, scrub-pine 
thickets, heavy pine forests — through windfalls and over 
rocky barrens until he reached the verge of the north wall 
of the canyon, where he paused to see if I were coming 
before taking the plunge. His inquiry was soon answered, 
for, hearing me approaching, he wheeled and leaped down 
the almost perpendicular wall at such a reckless rate of speed 
that he lost his footing at the very start and rolled and tum- 
bled fifty feet through the brush before he could recover. 

When I reached the spot from whence my quarry had 
taken this fearful leap I paused and debated in my mind 
whether I should risk my life by following him into this 
awful abyss. The wall was so nearly perpendicular that I 
could and did reach out and break oif a twig from the top of 
a pine-tree forty feet high, and which stood that distance 
below me on the side of the wall. I looked into the bottom 
of the canyon and my brain reeled as I thought of the 
danger and the folly of trying to descend into it. It was 
2,000 feet deep if it was a foot, and large trees that stood at 
the base of either wall looked from where I stood like mere 
saplings. Rocks that I knew would weigh many tons looked 
like boulders such as we often see built into fences or stone 
walls. The rapid mountain stream that plunged through the 
canyon looked to be a mere rill. 

But why parley ? My game has gone down this wall, and 
while I stand here querying whether it is possible to follow 



96 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

him or not, and at the same time almost lost in admiration of 
the grand panorama spread out before me, he is rapidly 
speeding away from me. Of course it is possible to follow 
him. A man can go anywhere that a deer can if he (the man) 
only have "sand" enough. And, awakened by this reflec- 
tion, I grasped my rifle tightly in my right hand, made a 
spring, and next touched the earth twenty feet below where I 
jumped from. By catching firm hold of a sapling I was 
enabled to maintain my footing and steady myself for the 
next bound. It was not necessary to pay close attention to 
the trail of the deer, for between falling, sliding, plowing 
through the snow, and rolling down detached rocks, he left a 
trail that might almost have been mistaken for that of a small 
avalanche. 

He soon tired of this perpendicular flight, however, and 
began to tack like a vessel sailing against the wind. This 
enabled me to gain rapidly upon him, for by holding on to 
trees and bushes, a faculty he did not possess, I could con- 
tinue my descent in a straight course. , Several times we 
encountered perpendicular ledges of rock cropping out of 
the main wall and towering to a height of fifty, seventy, and 
even a hundred feet. In passing some of these it was neces- 
sary to make long detours. Then there were chasms and 
fissures from five to twenty feet wide. Some of these I could 
jump across, but was compelled to round many of them. 

Still I kept on and on, until at last the frightful descent, 
with all its dangers, toils and vicissitudes, was accomplished, 
and I stood upon the bank of the clear, cold "mountain torrent 
that flowed with a wild, roaring, echoing music through the 
canyon. 

Into this the buck had plunged, and had evidently waded 
down it. This was another trick by which he hoped to evade 
iiie; for here I could not trail him. I followed down the 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 97 

right bank perhaps 200 yards, watching both banks closely, 
when I saw his trail emerge and lead out on the opposite 
side. I waded the stream, whose icy waters almost paralyzed 
my limbs, took up the trail which wound through the brush, 
first up and then down the stream, until, finding that I was 
still following, he started directly up the opposite wall of the 
canyon. 

But here he began to show unmistakable signs of weaken- 
ing. In making this ascent he would stop every few rods, 
and would frequently lie down. He made frequent doubles 
on his trail, by which he evidently hoped to elude me; but, 
though these clever ruses often succeed with a hound, who 
runs entirely by scent, they did not trouble me in the least, as 
I could readily see in every case where he had broken off on 
the return ; so that I could take up the trail here and save all 
the distance he had traveled on the double. This gave me a 
decided advantage, for it enabled me to press him all the harder. 

The wall which we were now ascending was as steep, 
rugged and difficult as the one which we had just descended, 
and though climbing up was much harder work for me than 
jumping and sliding down, I consoled myself with the 
reflection that it was also much harder for my antlered fugi- 
tive. An hour of this toil landed me again on top of the 
south wall. Here was a wide plateau partly covered with 
pine timber, the remainder with sage brush. Over this the 
frightened and now weary stag circled, doubled, crossed and 
recrossed, trying, but still in vain, to mislead me. He moves 
now almost altogether in a walk. Occasionally, when I 
approach closely, he takes fresh alarm and makes a few 
spasmodic bounds, but he is too far exhausted to continue 
them, and soon relapses again into a slow, dragging walk, 
keeping just far enough ahead of me all the time to be out of 
sight. 

7 



98 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

At last, finding that he can't shake me off his trail by 
these tactics, he strikes straight south again. I follow, and 
after a walk of a mile I find that his trail leads me to the 
brink of another canyon as deep, bold and rugged as the one 
I have just crossed. "Great heavens!" thought I, "can it 
be possible he is going into this? " " Yes, my brave hunter," 
he seemed to say, as he paused on top of the wall and looked 
back to see if I were coming. " I must now bid you good 
day. I have been playing with you thus far ; but now I have 
other business to attend to and must leave you. Besides, I 
am getting tired and must go and lie down awhile. I 
have given you one dose of canyon and I don't think you will 
want another. So here goes for the bottom of this one. 
Good-by, my lad." And his trail showed that he had surely 
enough taken that awful plunge again. I hesitated but a 
moment as to whether I should follow, and then my mind 
was made up. "Not much, my fine buck," said I. "I 
haven't taken this tramp for my health. I'm after that hand- 
some coat of yours, and I'll have it if I have to camp on 
your trail to-night and renew the chase to-morrow. 

So saying I let go, and away I went again at break-neck 
speed, down, down, down, over rocks, chasms, fallen trees, 
and through thick brush, until the foot of the wall was at last 
reached. Here the trail wound and twisted again. Here 
were new doubles and crosses. Here were frequent " standing 
tracks ' ' where he had stopped to rest, warm beds in the 
snow every few rods where he had lain down, all showing 
unmistakably that the quarry was far exhausted. In follow- 
ing the track across a level strip of bottom in the canyon I 
came upon the track of a large she bear and two cubs. But 
it was not fresh, so I did not leave the trail I was on to fol- 
low it, but I promised the buck then and there that if he 
would in his meanderings lead me upon this new game I 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 99 

would give him his liberty and take their scalps instead. But 
he heeded not my promise and kept on down the canyon. 
Here a new danger presented itself to my mind. The snow 
even here in the canyon was much lighter than on the moun- 
tains, and so light in places that it was difficult to follow the 
trail, and I knew that a short distance down the canyon it 
opened out into the Big Horn Valley, which was an open 
prairie and entirely below the snow-line. 

And the wily buck seemed to understand this fact as well 
as I, for without further ado he headed straight down the 
canyon. I followed briskly, hoping to get within sight of 
him and obtain a shot before he should get beyond the snow. 
As I emerged from the timber and looked out upon the dry, 
hard ground of the prairie in the valley, my heart sank within 
me, for I thought after all my toil, my tramping, climbing, 
wading and crawling, I was outwitted and left. But placing 
my field-glass to my eyes and scanning the ground closely I 
saw a gray bunch of something with a white spot at one end 
of it, closely ensconced under a cluster of greasewood. I 
examined it closely and carefully, and finally satisfied myself 
that it was my buck. By changing my position slightly I 
could plainly distinguish his antlers. His head lay flat upon 
the ground, as if dead, and his tongue pr(;truded to almost 
its full length. Knowing that I could not track him on the 
dry, hard prairie he had gone far enough from the snow 
to be, as he thought, safe, and, concealing himself under this 
clump of bushes, doubtless considered himself beyond all 
possibility of discovery. Indeed, I probably never should 
have found him without the aid of a field-glass. 

He was about eight hundred yards from where I stood, 
but I knew that I could get an easy shot at him as he was off 
his guard, so I stepped down the side of the hill until I got a 
low ridge between him and myself, when I crept cautiously to 



100 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

the crest of it, which brought me within about a hundred and 
fifty yards of him. Here I leveled my rifle at him and- 
turned her loose. At the report he sprang into the air, made 
two or three convulsive bounds, and fell dead. 

In a moment I was at his side and my knife was hissing 
through his hide. I threw him out of it in short order, cut 
a favorite roast from his loin, and started for camp.- At the 
creek which flows through this canyon I stopped and took a 
drink in honor of the event from the cold crystal fluid that 
comes fresh from the snow. I looked at my watch, and found 
that it had been seven and a half hours from the time I struck 
the trail of the deer in the morning until I killed it. As I 
had made a good three-mile gate all the time, I must have 
ran him something over twenty miles. 

As I passed up the canyon on my return to camp I again 
came upon the trail of the bear and her two cubs, and here it 
was fresh. They had been feeding on the choke-cherries 
that grow here in abundance, and had passed over this spot 
not twenty minutes before me. It was now the middle of the 
afternoon and 1 should have to hurry to reach camp before 
dark, but here was a temptation I could not resist. I had 
rather camp in the canyon alone to-night than miss this 
opportunity of corralling three bears in a bunch ; so I took up 
their trail and followed it. In a few minutes I heard the cubs 
calling to their mother- making a noise something like the 
squealing of a pig. I ^"'ild also hear the mother grunt and 
growl at them in reply. They were not over a hundred yards 
from me, but the brush was so thick in this locality that I 
could not see a tenth of that distance in any direction. 

I dropped the trail and started for the noise, which the 
cubs kept up nearly all the time. I crawled through thickets 
on my hands and knees and climbed over great masses of 
broken and disordered rocks, until I found myself within 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 101 

thirty feet of the monster old plantigrade and her two young 
hopefuls. She was a large savage-looking grizzly, and her 
cubs were about half-grown. I felt perfectly secure, however, 
for I was loaded for bear, even to the size and number of the 
party I was looking ati I have one cartridge in the chamber 
of the rifle and three more in my left hand ready for imme- 
diate use, should the first fail to bring her down. As a 
precautionary measure, however, I have taken a strap from my 
pocket, tied one end around the breech of my rifle and the 
other to my belt, so that if compelled to tree, my gun will go 
up with me. 

The old she-bear, when I came in sight, at once raised on 
her haunches to take a look at me. As she did so I took a 
dead aim at her breast and fired. At the report she reeled, 
staggered and fell ; but recovered strength enough to regain, 
her feet and started toward me. By this time I had another 
cartridge in my gun, and a quick aim, a steady hand and a 
pull just at the right instant planted a ball just above her 
left eye, at which she dropped dead almost without a struggle. 
The ball exploded when it struck and carried away a piece of 
the skull from just above the ear nearly as large as my hand, 
scattering her brains in every direction. The first ball, I 
found on examination, had passed through her heart, tearing 
it into a shapeless mass, but so great an amount of vitality 
and brute force do these animals possess that they will with- 
stand the effect of such a shot as even this several minutes 
before death will ensue. 

To dispatch the two cubs was but the work of as many 
seconds — one shot to each being sufficient to lay them out. 
The only trophies I could save from these were the claws Of 
the old one, as it was getting so late that I could not take 
time to skin them, nor could I carry the skins home if I did. 

When I reached the top of the canyon wall the sun was 



102 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

low in the west. I had at least fifteen miles to walk yet to 
reach camp, but a brisk walk, and for a portion of the way a 
dog-trot, landed me there at nine o'clock, tired, wet and 
hungry enough to eat four men's rations. 



CHAPTER XII. 

A BUSY DAY. 

SCORINO A MISS — HUFFMAN PHOTOGRAPHS A SCENE — SHAKSPEARE 
IN t'HE MOUNTAINS — A GRIZZLY "RUSTLING FOR CHUCK" — A 
RACE FOR LIFE — BRUIN FALLS — A SEVERE ATTACK OF PUNNING — 
BUTTER SIDE DOWN — A HERD OF ELK — MORE SPORT. 

Huffman had been out during the afternoon and made a 
few exposures on some fine scenery. We experienced an- 
other cold night. While eating our breakfast next morning, 
ice formed on water we had brought from the spring but a 
few minutes before. We moved at nine o'clock a.m., keep- 
ing northward along the west slope of the mountain. At 
three p.m. we made camp near some large springs and in the 
edge of a group of pines. On the little park in front of our 
camp the grass was thick and furnished capital grazing for 
the animals. 

Just as we halted for camp, five mule deer, three bucks 
and two does, jumped from the grass about two hundred 
yards from us, and started up a hill toward the timber. We 
built a smudge after them, tore the ground up all around them, 
and finally knocked one down. 

After dinner we went to some springs near us to watch 
for elk, as signs were very plentiful there, showing that they 
had been coming in there to water and feed every night. We 
hoped they might show up this evening before dark, but they 
did not. The next morning, while packing up two more 
deer, a buck and doe came into the meadow within a few 
rods of our camp. Jack caught up his carbine and knocked 
one of them down. In the afternoon, as we were passing 

103 



104 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

through a heavy body of timber, we sighted our first elk — a 
bull and cow. They were about a hundred yards ahead of 
us, and saw us about the same time we saw them. Jack slid 
off his mule and opened on them bringing the bull down 
with his second shot, while on the run. At this the cow 
circled around us so as to give us each a shot. I scored a 
miss, but Huffman, who was in the rear, hit her in the flank 
with his first shot, missed with his second and third, and 
finally brought her down with a broken shoulder on the 
fourth round. 

Later in the day, as we were passing another of the small 
parks, I saw an object under the low hanging branches of a 
small pine tree that looked like a deer — a buck with large 
antlers standing facing us. I pointed it out to the other boys 
and asked them if it were not a deer, but they thought not — 
thought it was only a log with dead limbs on it. The ground 
was bare of snow there, and the dense shade caused by the 
green foliage of the pine tree rendered the figure very indis- 
tinct^ still it looked so much like game that I told them I 
would try it one any way. As I turned the old pill-driver 
loose, the deer — for such it proved to be — made one leap into 
the air and was out of sight in the brush. Then we saw five 
or six others leap across an opening about ten feet wide, 
between two clumps of scrub pine. As they went we fanned 
them, and when the circus was over we went down there. 
One handsome buck lay dead within twenty feet of where the 
performance took place, with a hole in his shoulder where a 
bullet had entered, and one among the short ribs on the 
opposite side where it had passed out. 

Huffman unpacked ' ' Nig ' ' and exposed a plate on this 
fellow, after placing a large elk skull and antlers that lay near 
the spot in the rear of the "subject" to fill in the back- 
ground. 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 105 

Soon after leaving this point we passed out of the timber 
entirely onto a high, open plateau — a broad stretch of prairie 
tableland. Over this we were slowly wending our way, 
when we saw at a distance, about a mile and a half ahead of 
us, a large dark object moving slowly about, evidently feed- 
ing. I took out my field glass to try and determine what the 
strange apparition was, that here upon this blasted heath 
stopped our way with such peculiar motions. Huffman said 
it was a buffalo. Jack said : 

*'No, it's a horse with a saddle on. There must be a 
camp not far off. ' ' 

By this time I had adjusted the glass and taken an obser- 
vation. 

'' It's a bear," said I, ''and a big one, too." 

''Well," said Huffman, "If that's a bear it's the biggest 
one in the mountains." 

I passed him the glass. He looked, still doubted my 
assertion ; but we resolved to settle the question of its 
identity in short meter, and as we put spurs to our animals, 
Huffman shouted in tragic tones : 

" Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 
Be thou a spirit of healtli, or goblin damn'd, 
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, 
Be thy intents wicked or charitable ; 
Thou com' St in such a questionable shape, 
That I will speak to thee, 
"With this old paralyzer of mine." 

As our mules tore up the sod and filled the air in our rear 
with pulverized grass and mud, the distance between us and 
the mysterious apparition rapidly diminished, and we soon 
saw plainly enough with the naked eye, that it was a large 
grizzly engaged in turning over rocks and clawing up the 
ground in search of worms ; or as the Western slang expresses 
it — " rustling for his chuck. " We now halted and laid our 



106 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

plan of attack, which was, that Huffman and Jack should go 
to the right of him to keep him from getting into a canyon 
on that side if we failed to bring him down, and I to the left 
in order to cut off his retreat should he attempt to reach a 
canyon that lay on the left of him, or a body of timber near 

by. 

We rode rapidly, taking care to keep on the lower ground 
and out of his sight, as much as possible. When I got within 
about a hundred and fifty yards of him, I dismounted, knelt, 
and turned "old reliable" loose on him. As her voice rang 
out over the mountains and echoed through the canyons, he 
reared up, looked quickly round him, saw us, took in the 
whole situation in a second, and then started for the timber 
at a rate of speed that astonished us all. I never would have 
believed that a bear could run as that bear ran if I had been 
told about it. But he seemed to realize that he had been 
caught in a hard shower and was a long ways from shelter, 
that he was largely in the minority and would stand a poor 
show in a fight, that discretion would in his case prove the 
better part of valor, and that by making the best use of the 
little time that was left hnn for this world, he might possibly 
reach the timber to the south, and be permitted to die alone 
and in peace. I think that if Goldsmith !Maid, Bonesetter, 
Maud S., Iroquois, Dexter, Foxhall and the whole lot of those 
fast horses had been there and seen that bear run, they would 
have kicked their hind shoes off and quit the turf in disgust. 
I slipped a second cartridge into my rifle, took a running shot 
at the old monster, but forgot that I was shooting against the 
speed of a comet, and my ball struck about ten feet behind 
him. I then mounted old Blinkie, gave him the steel, and 
started for a race with Bruin. It Avas nip and tuck for a short 
distance, but the grizzly's strength soon failed him, and when 
he saw that he could not escape, he turned and came for me. 



IN THE BIG HORN ^MOUNTAINS. 



101 



The pony didn't like this first-rate, but still didn't make as 
big a fool of himself as most horses would under the circum- 
stances. I dismounted, and was just ready to pull on the 
bear again, when he stopped and sank to the ground. 

I waited for reinforcements before going up to hnn, and 
when Jack and Huffman came up I advanced very cautiousl)', 







THE DEAD GRIZZLY, 



keeping the enemy covered with my rifle lest he might be 
only ''possuming" and would charge me when I got too 
close to retreat. But not so. I found him stone dead, shot 
through and through, just behind the shoulders. 

We found on examination that my bullet had exploded as 
soon as it passed through the skin, had riddled the lungs until 



108 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

they were scarcely recognizable, and passed out, breaking two 
ribs on the side where it went in and three where it came 
out. He did not run more than a hundred yards, and this 
was the only shot that hit him. A forty caliber that will 
break a grizzly up like that is slick enough for me ; brother 
Van Dyke's opinion to the contrary, notwithstanding. 

We made camp in the edge of the timber near by, and 
after dinner Huffman made several good views of the critter. 
Then we skinned him, and now when I step out of bed these 
cold winter mornings, instead of landing with my bare feet 
on the bare floor as other newspaper men have to do, I step 
proudly on the soft warm skin of that bear. In other words, 
the bear skin keeps my bare feet off the bare floor. It is 
barely possible that some of my readers may see this thread- 
bare pun. If I thought they would bear more of this sort of 
stuff, I would prolong the discussion, but I forbear. 

The old fellow was very fat. I took a large quantity of 
the fat and fried it out in our frying pan by the camp-fire 
that night. I brought home a canteen full of it, and it fits 
my rifle first-rate. 

The snow had all disappeared from this plateau, and we 
had difficulty in finding enough in the timber for the stock 
and for cooking purposes that night — there being no water 
in the vicinity. We spent the next day in winding among 
the canyons of this locality, trying to find a trail by which 
we could get out and down into the Big Horn valley, but no 
sooner did we cross one of these terrible chasms, each ot 
which was from a thousand to three thousand feet deep, than 
we found our way impeded by another. 

We had crossed one of them and was toiling up the oppo- 
site wall of it, picking our way over rocks and among crags, 
where you would not suppose, to look at it, that a dog could 
go in safety, when we met with what might have proved a 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



109 



a serious accident. One of our pack mules — a little sorrel, 
called Scotty — was blind in his left eye. At one point, a 
ledge of rock projected over the narrow trail from the right 




BUTTER SIDE DOWN. 



hand side to such a distance as to leave barely room for the 
pack mules to pass without their packs catching on the 
shelving point. Scotty saw this obstruction with his good 



no IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

eye, but could not see the danger that beset him on his blind 
side, and as he approached the crag he naturally shied off to 
dodge it, just as a book agent shies away from a cross dog 
that is chained up in the front yard. He swerved a little too 
far from the path of duty, and with a crashing, rattling, 
smashing racket he went rolling, turning, sliding down the 
the almost perpendicular wall, a distance of forty feet or 
more, and landed, butter side down, in the creek at the foot 
o[ the wall. 

" There goes our Dutch oven," said Huffman, '' smashed 
all to thunder, I'll bet." 

*' Yes, and there goes our flour and sugar, all wet, and 
turned to dough and molasses," said I. 

" Darn your Dutch oven and grub," said Jack, *' there 
goes Uncle Sam's mule, all ground into sausage meat. If we 
ever save any of his load, we'll have to walk and carry it 
ourselves from this on." 

We hurried down to where the wreck lay, as fast as 
possible, and to our surprise found the poor creature still 
breathing. We waded in, and unlashed his load as quickly 
as we could, pulled one of the boxes away from him, so that 
he could turn over, and with our help he struggled to his 
feet. We found that, though badly cut and bruised, he had 
sustained no serious injuries — that he was much worse scared 
than hurt — that he was slightly disfigured, but still in the 
ring. We examined the rocks over which he had fallen, and 
found that only a small chunk was broken off here and there \ 
that further than this they, too, were uninjured. 

We next carried the boxes ashore, and unpacked them. 
The Dutch oven, our dearest treasure of all, was safe. The 
potatoes and canned beans ditto. The sugar was decidedly 
damp, and much of its sweetness had been wasted on the 
desert air. The flour had fortunately been put on one of the 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. Ill 

Other mules that morningj and so these were the only casual- 
ties. We led the erring brother back onto the high and 
narrow way, adjusted his burden upon his willing back, and 
once more slowly wended our weary way toward the goal. 

We camped near a fine spring that night, on the same 
plateau and only a few miles from the scene of our former 
night's camp. All night we could hear elk whistling around 
our camp. They wanted to come to the spring for water, but 
the sight of our white canvas, our mules, etc., kept them back. 
Along toward morning I saw one large bull standing on the 
top of a ridge about seventy-five or eighty yards away. 
There was no moon at that hour, but the stars shone brightly, 
and his majestic form was plainly visible by their light. I 
crawled out of bed, took my rifle, and started to crawl up 
toward him, but he saw or heard me, and vanished into thin 
air before I could get near enough for a sure shot. 

We were up at 5 o'clock a.m., had an early breakfast, and 
moved at six. After we had gone about half a mile from 
camp, we looked back and saw a sn^all band of elk coming 
over a ridge away to the southwest, heading directly for the 
spring we had just left. Huffman and I dismounted, left 
Conley in charge of the mules, and ran down into a coulee 
out of sight. Then began a long, tedious, laborious still 
hunt. The elk were on higher ground than we, and were 
moving, slowly, cautiously, warily toward us, stopping at 
frequent intervals to scan the ground and sniff the air in 
search of danger. We had a broad expanse of level prairie 
to pass over yet before reaching the cover of the brush, and 
we knew that in order to get a shot we must needs be in the 
thicket before the elk got there. To get over this open 
prairie without letting the game discover us was an under- 
taking of no small magnitude. We laid down and crawled 
through the grass a distance of a hundred yards or more to a 



112 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

low swale, where, by stooping low, we were concealed behind 
a ridge between us and the game. Here we rose to our feet, 
and ran up this swale as far as it went in our direction. 
Then we paused to watch the elk. They were still moving 
slowly toward the spring, from the south, and we from the 
east. Another tedious crawl of twenty minutes, that seemed 
to us like so many hours, brought us to the edge of the 
thicket of quaking-asp. 

Here we took a breathing spell, for we were now safe 
from observation, and had plenty of time to reach the spring 
before our competitors in the race could get there. Then we 
moved cautiously up through the brush to the opposite edge, 
near the spring where we could look through, and our race 
was ended. The band was yet two hundred yards away, and 
we had plenty of leisure to watch them. They were strung out 
in single file, led by an old cow, followed by her calf. Next 
came an old bull, then another cow and calf, then two young 
bulls, and so on to the end of the line. The leader, with 
true motherly instinct, watched every moving blade of grass, 
and every leaf in the thicket, as they rustled in the wind, 
frequently turning to her calf and caressing it, as much as to 
say: " Come on, little one, I will take care of you." 

They were evidently the same band that had been there 
during the night, else they would not have been so cautious 
about approaching their usual haunt, but they had doubtless, 
from their distant lookout, seen us move away with our train, 
and thought we were out of sight long ago. But a feeling of 
danger seemed to hang over them still, and they showed the 
care and caution of an Indian warrior in approaching an 
enemy. It was interesting to study their movements, their 
wary, cautious advance. At last they reached a point within 
fifty yards of us, and stopped again. The wind was in our 
favor, and even at this short distance they could not scent us, 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



113 



It was now time to open the ball. The lead cow stood 
broadside to me, and I drew on her side just back of the 
shoulder, Huffman at the same time taking a bead on the 
largest bull. Our rifles cracked simultaneously. The cow 
sprang forward, then wheeled, started back toward the herd 
and fell dead. The bull dropped on his knees, then raised, 




SKINNING THE ELK. 

plunged forward a few feet, staggered, and fell very near the 
cow. The other animals dashed away in opposite directions, 
but stopped suddenly, turned, and stood looking at each 
other, and at their fallen companions. We remained con- 
cealed, but did not care to continue the slaughter. We fired a 
shot in the air to watch its effect upon them. They were 
8 



114 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

panic-stricken, and would not run, but huddled together and 
stood there trembling. Then we walked out into the open 
ground, and when they saw us, and knew from whence the 
danger came, they turned, and went over the prairie with the 
speed of a courser. 

I found on skinning the cow that my bullet (an explosive) 
had passed directly through ner, ranging a little forward, and 
coming out at the shoulder. It had broken two ribs where it 
went in, and shattered the shoulder-blade where it came out. 
This was from a forty caliber rifle, mind you, and it would 
seem from this shot to be about as effective a weapon as 
brother Van Dyke's sixty-five caliber cannon. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM CUSTER TO KEOUGH. 

IN THE BIG HORN RANGE — THE BLACK CANYON — A PERILOUS DESCENT — 
JACK LOADED FOR BEAR — BEAR LOADED FOR JACK — HUFFMAN'S 
TRAIL — SCALING A MOUNTAIN WALL — CUSTER'S GRAVE — UP THE 
BIG PORCUPINE — FLAGGING THE ANTELOPE — ANTELOPES AS CURIOUS 
AS WOMEN — NO COUNTRY LIKE THE BIG HORN FOR SPORT. 

At about eleven o'clock next morning we reached the Black 
Canyon, one of the grandest in the Big Horn range. It is 
from two thousand to three thousand feet deep, and from an 
eighth to a quarter of a mile wide. Its walls are precipitous, 
almost perpendicular in many places, great ledges of white 
limestone and red sandstone cropping out here and there, and 
towering hundreds of feet toward the heavens, their faces split 
and waterworn into fantastic shapes resembling the ruins of 
some ancient mosque or castle. Through the bottom of this 
canyon runs one of those clear, cold, rapid mountain streams 
that poets love to linger over, and that always fills the heart of 
the true sportsman with rapture when he beholds its crystal 
fluid and listens to its joyous music. This one is ten to 
twenty feet wide at this point, and very swift. It boils and 
foams over large boulders and beds of snow white gravel. Its 
waters are so pure and cold that not a particle of moss or 
fungus of any kind can be found on the rocks or logs that lie 
in its pathway. 

On either side of the stream are beautiful little parks 
where green grass grows luxuriantly, and these are surrounded 
and shaded by tall, handsome pines, cottonwoods and other 
varieties of timber. We halted on top of the wall, and 

115 



116 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

gazed down upon the scene of enchantment. We were en- 
raptured, delighted, intoxicated with its beauty and grandeur. 
We longed to live in this fairyland, to feast our eager eyes 
always on such a picture. 

But this could not be. 

Our time was growing short, and we must soon bid the 
mountains farewell. 

Huffman went ahead to seek a passage-way into the canyon. 
There was only a game trail where we entered it — no evi- 
dence that any human being had ever risked his life by 
descending the wall where we were about to descend it. After 
Huffman had gone down some five or six hundred feet, he 
fired a shot as a signal that we were to come on, that he had 
found a route that was practicable. 

The report caused an echo that almost alarmed us. It 
resounded, reverberated and rolled back and forth from wail 
to wall, up and down the canyon for miles, and still came 
back again and again in echoes as loud as the first. It seemed 
to linger and mutter as if loth to leave the scene of its birth. 
It gradually receded and finally, after what seemed to us a 
long time, it began to grow fainter and fainter and at last 
died out, and the great chasm relapsed again into its virgin 
stillness. 

A few minutes later a large band of elk, probably a hundred 
and fifty, alarmed by the report of Huffman's rifle, broke from 
their cover and trotted off across one of the parks in the bottom 
of the canyon. It was a beautiful sight. We watched them for 
several minutes, but they were so far below us that they looked 
no larger than sheep. We started on our descent, and it 
fairly made our heads swim to look over the dizzy heights and 
through the narrow defiles that we were to pass. But by slow 
and patient toiling, picking our way and tacking like a ship 
sailing against the wind, we finally reached the foot of the 



118 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

wall in about two hours from the time of starting. We turned 
down the canyon, and as we passed the mouth of a smaller 
canyon that puts into the main one, we saw an ugly old 
grizzly on the side hill some distance away. Jack was riding 
at the head of the train, and the moment he sighted the game 
put the rowels to his mule, and went tearing through the 
brush in pursuit of it. When near the spot where the bear 
had disappeared in the brush, he dismounted, threw his lariat 
around a sappling and waltzed bravely forvv-ard. ' As he neared 
a clump of pine trees, bruin raised on his haunches to size up 
his pursuer before commencing to make a meal off him. 

Jack brought his carbine quickly to his shoulder, glanced 
nervously along the barrel, and fired. When the smoke lifted 
he saw the bear coming toward him at a 2 : 1 7 gait, his mouth 
open and his eyes glaring vengeance. Jack thought he who 
shoots and runs away may live to shoot another — bear, and 
accordingly made tracks (about two to the rod) for tall 
timber. He had not more than thirty yards to run across an 
open space to a friendly tree, but when he reached it old 
grizzly was so uncomfortably close that Jack declared after- 
ward he could feel his warm breath through his heavy cavalry 
boots. Jack said he never felt so pale in all his life as he 
did when he was reaching for that tree, and that he never saw 
a tree seem to run from him as that one did. But he finally 
reached it, and swung into its branches just in the nick of 
time, having offered up his hat and gun to his hungry foe on 
the way. As the bear reached the tree and halted for a mo- 
ment, a ball from Huffman's rifle doubled him up, and 
another rolled him over. 

Jack was loth to come down from his perch until he saw 
us go up and take hold of Bruin, to convince him that there 
was no further danger. 

We proceeded down the canyon about three miles and 



120 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

made camp at three o'clock. Huffman went out and made 
some views of the grand scenery of the canyon. Jack went 
down the stream a few rods and caught some beautiful moun- 
tain trout, weighing from one to two pounds each. 

The next morning we made an early start, our next hard 
task being to get out of the canyon. We went out by what 
is known as '' Huffman's Trail," our artist having discovered 
it some two or three years ago, when with Captain Baldwin 
of the 5th Infantry, and a detachment of troops exploring 
for timber. It was only a game trail at that time and he 
piloted the command over it. It has since been improved 
by the troops at Fort Custer and is now a respectable looking 
trail. But oh, how our backs and legs did ache before we 
reached the top of that terrible wall ! Three long hours we 
labored with it, and when we had at last scaled it, we landed 
on another of those broad, level plateaus, where we found a 
good, plain wagon road leading direct to Fort Custer. Our 
hard work was at last over, for the descent from here was 
gradual and easy. That night we camped on the bank of the 
Big Horn river, fifteen miles below old Fort C. F. Smith, and 
two days later landed at Fort Custer. From here we visited 
the Custer battlefield, where sleeps that noble little band who 
went down under the bloody hands of Crazy Horse, Sitting 
Bull, and their followers, on the twenty-fifth of June, 1876. 
A handsome granite monument has been erected on the 
ground, by order of the Secretary of War, and on it are 
inscribed the names of General Custer and all those who fell 
with him. May their memory ever be kept green in the 
hearts of their countrymen. 

The only event of interest that transpired during our four 
days' ride down the Yellowstone valley from Custer to 
Keough occurred on September 19th. We were passing over a 
high piece of tableland overlooking the valley of the Yellow- 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. I2l 

Stone and the lower part of that of the Big Porcupine. We 
had heard from some ranchmen along the way that the 
buffalo herd was at this time grazing about fifteen to twenty- 
miles up the Big Porcupine, and knowing that antelopes are 
nearly always found hanging on the outskirts of every large 
herd of bison, we were on the lookout for them, for it would 
not be at all strange to find them near the stage trail on 
which we were traveling. We scanned the country closely 
with the field glass and were finally rewarded by seeing a 
number of small white spots on the dead grass away up the 
Porcupine, that seemed to be moving. We rode toward 
them at a lively trot for perhaps a mile and then stopped to 
rt'cun.noitre a'-;iin. From this point we could plainly distin- 
guish theui, though they looked to be about the size of jack 
rabbits. We again put the rowels to our donkeys and r£)de 
rapidly up to within about a mile of them, when we picketed 
our animals in a low swale, took out our antelope flag — a 
piece of scarlet calico about half a yard square — attached it 
to the end of my wiping stick, and were ready to interview 
the antelopes. 

I crawled to the top of a ridge within plain view of the 
game, and planted my flag. The breeze spread it out, kept 
it fluttering, and it soon attracted their attention. They 
were then near the bank of the river, grazing quietly, but 
this bit of colored rag excited their curiosity to a degree that 
rendered them restive, anxious, uneasy, and they seemed at 
once to be seized with an insatiable desire to find out what it 
was. An antelope has as much curiosity as a woman, and 
when they see any object that they don't quite understand, 
they will travel miles and run themselves into all kinds of 
danger to find out what it is. They have been known to 
follow an emigrant or freight wagon with a white cover 
several miles, and an Indian brings them within reach of his 



122 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 

arrow by standing in plain view, wrapped in his red blanket. 
Some hunters ''flag" them by lying down on their back, 
holding one foot as high as possible, and swinging it to and 
fro. A piece of bright tin or a mirror answers the same 
purpose on a clear day. Almost any conspicuous or strange 
looking object will attract them, but the most convenient, as 
well as the most reliable at all times, is the little red flag, 
such as we employed in this instance. 

Huffman went to the top of another ridge, to my right, 
and some distance in advance, and Jack crawled into a 
hollow on the left, and well in advance, we three forming a 
half circle, into which it was our intention if possible to 
decoy the game. When they first discovered our flag they 
moved rapidly toward it, sometimes breaking into a trot, but 
when they had covered half the distance between us and 
their starting point, they began to grow suspicious, and 
stopped. They circled around, turned back, walked a few 
steps, and then paused and looked back at the, to them, 
mysterious apparition. But they could not resist its magic 
influence. Again they turned and came toward it, stopped, 
and gazed curiously at it. The old buck who led the herd 
stamped impatiently, as if annoyed at being unable to solve 
the mystery. Then they walked cautiously toward us again, 
down, an incline into a valley, which took them out of our 
sight, and out of sight of the flag. 

This, of course, rendered them still more impatient, and 
when they again came in sight on the next ridge, they were 
running. But as soon as the leader caught sight of the flag 
he stopped, as did the others in their turn when they reached 
the top of the ridge. There were seven in the herd, two 
bucks, three does and two fawns. They were now not more 
than a hundred yards from me, and still less from the other 
two of our party. Their position was everything we could 



124 



TN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS 



wish, and though we might possibly have brought them a 
few yards nearer, there was a possibility of their scenting us, 
even across the wind, which, of course, we had arranged to 
have in our favor, and I decided that rather than run the 
risk of this and the consequent stampede, I would shoot 
while I had a good chance. It had been arranged that I was 




THE ROUND UP. 

to open the ball, so I drew my peep and globe sights down 
very finely, taking the white breast of the old buck for my 
bull's-eye, and pulled. Huffman's Kennedy and Jack's car- 
bine paid their compliments to the pretty visitors at almost 
the same instant, and for about two or three minutes there- 
after we fanned them about as vigorously as ever a herd got 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 125 

fanned under similar circumstances. The air was full of 
leaden missiles ; the dry dust raised under and around the 
fleeing herd as it does when a team trots over a dusty road. 
Clouds of smoke hung over us, and the distant hills echoed 
the music of our artillery until the last white rump dis- 
appeared in the cottonwoods on the river bank. 

When the smoke of battle cleared away and we looked 
over the field, we found that we had not burned our powder 
in vain. Five of the little fellows, the two bucks and three 
does, had fallen victims to their curiosity. The two fawns 
had strangely enough escaped, probably only because they 
being so much smaller than their parents, were less exposed. 

This closed our hunting for the time being. We arrived 
at Fort Keough on the twenty-first, tired and hungry, but 
feeling well pleased with the result of our long, hard ride. 

To sportsmen in quest of large game I can heartily com- 
mend the Big Horn country as the very place for them to go 
to. Besides our own experience, I have the testimony of a 
number of old frontiersmen to the effect that it is one of the 
best game regions in the whole Northwest. Dr. J. C. Merrill, 
post surgeon at Fort Custer, informs me that he spent two 
weeks in the Big Horn mountains last June, collecting 
ornithological specimens, and that during that time he saw as 
many as five or six bears in a day, and that in one day he saw 
eleven. He states that deer, elk, mountain sheep and other 
large animals were equally plentiful. Several others with 
whom I spoke gave testimony to the same effect. 

Persons who may contemplate a trip to the Big Horn 
mountains, or any portion of the great Yellowstone country, 
or National Park, should not forget that the most direct and 
speedy route to that country from the East and South, is by 
way of the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul, and the Northern 
Pacific railroads. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

MONTANA A VERITABLE WONDERLAND" — SPORT FROM THE BAGGAGE 
CAR — ALKALI BEDS NEAR CRYSTAL SPRINGS — "WHY DID YOUR 
AUNT ELOPE? " — RESOLVED TO KILL A BUFPALO OR GET SCALPED — 

JUDGE SOUTHER IN LUCK — IN THE CUSTER VALLEY — "YOUNG 

MAN'S BUTTE" — CUSTER'S LOOKOUT.' — PRAIRIE-DOGS — BAD LANDS 
— TOO BAD TO BE DESCRIBED. 

Ever since the days of my childhood I have longed to 
see the great plains of the Far West^ My highest ambition, 
my fondest dream, has been to hunt the buffalo on his native 
prairies, to see the antelope, the Rocky mountain sheep, the 
elk, the black-tail deer and the coyote roam at will in their 
favorite ranges. I have longed to see the famous *' bad 
lands" of which authors, journalists and travelers have told 
us so much ; which artists have attempted in vain to portray 
on canvas. I have longed for the privilege of ascending the 
tall buttes, and viewing with one sweep of the eye as much 
territory as is inclosed within the boundary lines of one of 
our eastern states. 

All these desires I have at last been permitted to realize, 
and their realization has far exceeded all my anticipations. 
These western territories, at least Dakota and Montana, the 
ones I have visited, are indeed a veritable wonderland. 

I left Chicago at ten a.m. of September 15th, on the Chi- 
cago, Milwaukee & St. Paul railroad, arrived at St. Paul at six 
A.M. of the 1 6th, covering a distance of 409 miles in twenty 
hours, and enjoying a comfortable night's sleep in the 
meantime in one of this company's commodious and well- 

126 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 127 

appointed sleepers. I spent the day at St. Paul, and 
improved the opportunity of taking a good look at this, one 
of the liveliest and most enterprising cities in the Northwest. 
At twenty minutes past six p.m. I boarded the west- 
bound train on the Northern Pacific railroad, disposed myself 
in the sleeper ''Fargo," and at a seasonable hour wrapped 
the drapery of my couch about me, and laid down to plea- 
sant dreams. The night was bright with the light of the full 
moon, and an occasional glance through the windows showed 
that the country through which we passed during the night 
was not thickly settled, nor, generally speaking, good land. 
Most of the soil is too sandy to be valuable for agricultural 
purposes, though there are occasional tracts of a better 
quality, and on these there are good farms. After passing 
Brainerd we enter a good country, a rich black soil. Here 
vegetation grows luxuriantly, and the farmers are in good 
circumstances. At Perham we enter the lake region. From 
here to Moorehead the country is dotted all over with lakes 
of various sizes. Nearly all of them afford good fishing and 
duck shooting. Wild rice grows in most of them, and ducks 
breed numerously all through this part of the state. On 
nearly every lake or pond we passed we saw large numbers of 
them. They are very tame. They pay but little attention 
to the noise of the passing trains, and frequently sat within 
twenty feet of the track while we passed. Even when some 
of the passengers shot at them with revolvers they would not 
fly. Conductor Doyle told me that sportsmen, often stand 
in the door of the baggage car and kill large numbers of 
them as the trains pass them. Chicken shooting is also good 
all along the line of this road from Brainerd west to its 
terminus. Deer are found in goodly numbers in the timber 
belt about Detroit, which is ninety-two miics west of 
Brainerd, 



128 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

Near Crystal Springs, a station one hundred and thirty 
miles west of Fargo, we saw the first alkali beds one meets 
with on the line of this road. There are three of them, cov- 
ering in the aggregate probably five hundred acres. In the 
wet season these are lakes of water, but as the dry, hot season 
progresses, the water all evaporates, leaving a deposit of pure 
alkali. Within eighty rods of one of these beds is a lake of 
pure fresh water in which there is no particle of alkali. 

After leaving Jamestown the train men told us we were 
likely to see antelope at any time, that they were frequently 
seen within a few hundred yards of the track. I strained my 
eyes all day long looking for them, but did not catch sight of 
one. Toward night a man in the seat just in front of me looked 
out of his window and shouted ''Antelope." I ventured to 
ask him why did his aunt elope? Were the old folks opposed 
to the match, or did the young couple simply get up this kind 
of a scheme on account of the rom^ance of it ? He looked at 
me a minute or two and then shook his head and sighed, as 
if to say, ''Poor fellow, I'm sorry for you." Soon after this 
a crow flew along opposite the train for a mile or two, keep- 
ing just even with the car we were in. My neighbor in front 
turned around and asked me if I knew how far a crow could 
fly without stopping to rest. I said no, I was not well up in 
crow-nology, and was always getting my dates mixed up. 
He looked at me again intently for a few minutes and then 
went forward and told the conductor there was an escaped 
lunatic in the rear coach, and he ought to be taken into the 
baggage car and taken care of. 

There were four Pawnee Indians on the train from St. 
Paul to Bismarck. They were en route to their home, or 
camp, which is with the Rees, near Fort Berthold. They told 
us that a roving band of Chippewas had invaded the Rees 
reservation a few days ago, and stolen several ponies. A 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 129 

number of Rees warriors turned out and followed them, over- 
took them and recaptured the ponies, killing six of the 
Chippewas and losing four of their own men. The Pawnees 
were feeling good over the success of their friends, the Rees, 
and the defeat of the Chippewas, who are their bitter enemies. 
We arrived at Bismarck at half-past six in the evening, 
twenty-four hours ride from St. Paul, and as there was no 
train west on the extension until next morning, I put up at 
the Sheridan House, which is said to be the best hotel in the 
place, but if this be so I pity the others. After supper I took 
a walk round to the gun store, to interview the proprietor 
thereof as to game out along the extension. He told me I 
could find all the antelope shooting I wanted in the Curlew 
valley, about twenty-five miles west. This was just what I 
wanted, just what I had come fbr. But he said if I wanted 
larger game I could get it; that a man just in from Green 
river, one hundred miles west, reported having seen several 
large herds of buffaloes only forty miles south of that station 
two days before. Shades of Nimrod ! Could it be possible 
that I was within one hundred and forty miles of a herd of 
buffaloes ? And I was going to Green river, and should then 
be only forty miles from them. I resolved at once to kill a 
buffalo before I returned or get scalped in the attempt. But 
then how was I to make that forty miles? And who would I 
get to go with me for company and to help keep the Indians 
off? Well he said I could probably hire a man at Green 
river to take me down there on a buckboard, but that two of 
us couldn't do much toward keeping Indians off in case we 
should run across a party of them. Well, I said, I would go 
for the buffaloes any way, and take the chances on meeting 
the Indians. 

The construction train was to leave at half-past five the 
next morning for ''end of track." That was the way my 



130 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

ticket read, and that was where I wanted to go, so I told the 
clerk to call me when the lark flew down from his roost. At 
breakfast the next morning I had the pleasure of meeting 
Judge Henry Souther, of Erie, Pa. There was only us two 
at early breakfast, so the Judge introduced himself to me and 
I introduced myself to him. He asked me where I was going. 
I said to the end of the track, if not farther. I fired the same 
question at him, and he said to the end of the track and from 
there into the buffalo country ; that he was to meet a party of 
friends at Mandan, just across the river, who had everything 
cut and dried for a big buffalo hunt. I asked him if there 
was any chance to get counted into that party, and he said he 
was only a guest, but thought he could arrange it for me all 
right. This was more good news. We got into a box-car and 
rode up to the ferry, four miles above town. The water in 
the ' ' Big Muddy " is at a low stage at this season of the year, 
and the ferry had great difficulty in making the landings. 
However, we succeeded in getting over, were switched into 
the train on the other side, and left Mandan at ten o'clock 
that morning for the front. At the depot Judge Souther 
introduced me to Mr. James Bellows, of the firm of Walker, 
Bellows & Co., railroad contractors, and to Mr. B. J. Van 
Vleck, their cashier and paymaster, who had made up the 
party for the buffalo hunt. They received me kindly and 
gave me a cordial invitation to join their party, which invita- 
tion I of course eagerly and thankfully accepted. There was 
another hunting party on board the train bound for the buffalo 
country, A man from Custer City had been to Bismarck and 
employed four men at thirty-five dollars a month and board, 
and they were going out to kill buffaloes for the skins. They 
declined to tell us where they expected to find the herd, but, 
as will be seen later on, we found it before they did. They 
got off the train at Green river. 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 131 

Thirty miles out from Mandan we entered the Curlew 
valley, — a very handsome country, by the way, which will one 
day be a rich farming district. The Curlew river is a small, 
clear stream of pure water, and will be useful for stock rais- 
ing. At this point we saw our first antelope. There were 
two of them grazing on a hillside about four hundred yards 
from the road. As the train came in sight they stood and 
looked at it for a minute and then turning their white rumps 
to us, skurried away over the hills out of sight. From this 
point west we saw them almost every hour in the day. This 
valley is a famous feeding-ground for them. The conductor 
informed us that there is a herd of from twenty-five to forty 
that graze here all the time. He said that some days they 
would all be together, on other days scattered out in small 
herds. Beavers are plentiful along this stream and its tribu- 
taries, and since the railroad has been built they are making 
trouble in some instances by cutting away the piles under 
bridges and culverts. 

Soon after entering the Curlew valley we were shown a 
ranche owned by a man named Warns, who has lived here 
about ten years. His house stands on the top of a high 
rocky bluff or butte, and is stoned up on the outside in such 
a way as to render it bullet-proof; in fact, it is a stockade, or 
fort, on a small scale. It is said that the Indians have tried 
several times to kill or capture him, but he has always been 
able to hold his position against them. He refuses to say 
whether he has ever killed any Indians or not, but says that 
if General Custer were alive he could tell where several of 
them are buried, not far off. He is said to have been a warm 
personal friend of Custer's. 

Near Eagle's Nest station our attention was called to 
''Young Man's Butte," a high peak, so named from the fact 
that some years ago a young lieutenant of the army, who 



132 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

was killed in a fight with Indians near the butte, was buried 
on its summit, and about a year later, when his friends from 
the East came to exhume his body and take it home for 
burial, it was found to be completely petrified. Before his- 
death he weighed but one hundred and sixty pounds, and 
when taken up weighed three hundred and ninety pounds. 
About two miles to the northwest we were shown another tall 
butte, the tallest in all this section of country, called '^ Cus- 
ter's Lookout." It is said that the lamented commander used, 
frequently, during his Indian campaigns, to ascend this peak, 
and with the aid of his field-glass scan the surrounding coun- 
try in search of hostile Indians. 

We reached Green River, one hundred miles west of Bis- 
marck, at two o'clock P.M., and had to wait there for a new 
train to be made up to take us to the front. 

On Saturday, the i8th, our party having some business to 
transact at Houston, that would take up the greater part of 
the day, I took my rifle and walked out four or five miles from 
camp to try and flag an antelope. I saw three during the day, 
but they had been hunted so much near camp that they knew 
what a red flag meant, and would not come near it, so I did 
not get a shot. I saw two carcasses of antelopes that had been 
killed by hunters, but had gone so far after being hit that they 
had not been recovered. The coyotes had eaten all the flesh 
from their bones. On my return to camp I passed a large 
prairie-dog town. While I was yet half a mile away the dogs 
set up a lively barking, and kept it up until I was in the 
midst of their village. I undertook to shoot some of them, 
as every tenderfoot does who goes to the plains. I had read 
and been told often that they would always drop into their 
holes when shot, but thought that possibly a large caliber 
rifle-ball with a high velocity might possibly knock them away 
fiom the hole; and that I might thus be able to secure a sped- 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 133 

men for mounting. I killed several, but although the force 
of the ball did knock them across the hole, they invariably 
fell back into it, and I could not get them. I then tried shoot- 
ing into the dirt just under them, thinking that I might be able 
to thus kill, or at least paralyze them by the concussion, and 
perhaps throw them away from the hole; but though I could 
throw them up a foot or more into the air, they invariably 
tumbled back into their hole, so I gave up the task and re- 
turned to camp. On the way back I found some very fine 
specimens of petrified wood, of which there are great quanti- 
ties all through this region of country. 

Mr. Bellows had arranged to go over the line of the road 
from Houston to the Yellowstone, and pay off his men who 
were engaged in grading, bridge building, etc. After com- 
pleting this duty we were to leave the line at the most favor- 
able point, and strike the buffalo with as little delay as possi- 
ble. He accordingly provided teams at Houston to take us 
through. They consisted of two buck boards and a light 
platform-wagon. On these were loaded our tent, blankets, 
provisions, guns, ammunition, and other equipments necessary 
for the expedition, and besides comfortable seats were pro- 
vided for all the party to ride on them. Three extra ponies 
were led for use when we should reach the buffalo country. 
In addition to this complete and comfortable outfit. General 
Merrill sent with us an escort of five men and a non-com- 
missioned officer, as a safeguard against roving bands of hostile 
Indians, with whom we were liable to meet at any point along 
the line. 

Our expedition left Houston at eight o'clock a.m. of the 
19th, and after driving five miles we entered the famous 
*' bad lands," through which the Little Missouri river flows. 
An accurate description of these bad lands — such an one 
as will present to the eye of the reader a fair picture of 



134 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

them — is one of the impossibilities of the English language. 
Geologists who have examined them have various theories as 
to their origin ; but the most common one, and that which 
appears to me most tangible, is, that at some remote period 
there were great internal convulsions of the earth, something 
of the nature of earthquake, that, owing to the existence of 
extensive subterranean caverns, at no great distance below, the 
crust or surface gave way and dropped, to distances varying 
in different localities, from two hundred to five hundred feet. 
The bases or floors of these caverns must have been very un- 
even. Apparently there were, in places, great ledges or pillars 
of granite or other solid formation, towering to great heights 
from these floors. On these projections this falling mass must 
have struck, and portions of it v/ere held in suspense, while 
the remainder passed on down to the general level base of 
the caverns. The general surface passing down left these por- 
tions of it which first met with resistance protruding through, 
and thus were formed great buttes, peaks, mounds and 
pryamids, of all sizes, heights, shapes and colors that the 
most speculative mind could possibly imagine. 

Then, either before or after these great convulsions, inter- 
nal fires have raged, perhaps for ages. Rich deposits of coal 
or lignite have in some manner become ignited and burned 
away, leaving other cavities which have in turn been filled, up 
by the sinking crust. There are many distinct and well de- 
fined craters, long since extinct, around which lie masses of 
lava, scoria, lime and baked clay. Some of the buttes where 
these extinct craters are found are covered all over with red 
clay, baked to the consistency of brick or pottery, and broken 
into small pieces, looking as if thousands of crates of pottery 
might have been broken up and piled there by the hand of 
man. Then, since these scenes were enacted, another de- 
stroying element, water, has wrought its ravages, uninter- 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 135 

rupted and unimpeded, perhaps for many hundreds of years. 
Great gulches, canyons and ravines are cut out between these 
buttes. The sides of the buttes, mounds and turrets are 
washed into fantastic shapes, and are still changing in shape 
and appearance every year. The various strata of each butte 
are plainly visible, owing to the absence of vegetation on 
their sides, and we see here a tall butte with half-a-dozen beds 
of clay of various colors and as many more of sand, while 
within fifty feet of it we see another standing lower down in 
the valley, whose head only reaches to the level of the base 
of this one, and which contains the very same strata as in the 
one just mentioned. The average level of these bad lands, as 
above stated, is from two to five hundred feet below the 
adjacent prairies ; and as one stands on a ridge of the prairie 
overlooking a tract of these lands perhaps thirty to fifty miles 
in circumference, a scene is presented to the eye that for 
grandeur and sublimity cannot be excelled on this continent, 
if on the globe. After all that can be said in the v/ay of 
describing these wonderful bad lands, no more correct idea 
of them can be given than that conveyed in the few words of 
General Sully, who, when asked what the bad lands were 
like, replied, ^'They are simply hell with the fire out." 

I predict that when the Northern Pacific railroad is com- 
pleted through to the Yellowstone, people will come here 
from all parts of the civilized world simply to see the bad 
lands, and consider themselves richly repaid for their time 
and trouble when they have beheld them. 



CHAPTER XV. 

LIFE ON THE PLAINS. 

COURTESIES OF RAILROAD AND MILITARY OFFICERS — LIVING ON THE FAT 
OF THE LAND — THE CUISINE OF THE PALMER HOUSE ECLIPSED — 
SPORT THAT IS SPORT — A PET FAWN — A SIGHT FOR LANDSEER — 
LIEUTENANT M'COY — SPIKE-TAILED REPUBLICANS — A BANQUET IN 
THE WILDERNESS — BUZZING A SENTINEL — A YARN OF INDIAN SCOUTS 
"SOLDIER HEAP DAMN LAZY ! " — BACK TO MY VIRTUOUS COUCH. 

Twelve miles west of Houston we halted at Lord, 
Fogarty & Go's camp and were there joined by Mr, John 
Fogarty, Mr. S. J. Hill, and their driver, John Kelly. This 
increased our number to seven men all told, and completed 
our party. 

We reached the Little Missouri river Sunday evening at 
six o'clock, and were warmly welcomed by Colonel Clough, 
chief engineer of the Missouri division of the Northern 
Pacific, S. M. Keith, resident engineer, R. C. Sattleyand C. 
H. Hurley, his assistants, and by Major Comba, Lieutenant 
Roberts, Lieutenant McCoy, Surgeon Miller, Post Trader 
Moore, and other officers of Major Comba' s command who 
are stationed here. 

These railroad and military officers render life on the 
plains much more agreeable than we in the States might 
imagine it could be made. The railroad people, even those 
who live in tents and move frequently to keep up with their 
work, provide themselves with nearly every luxury that the 
Eastern markets aff"ord. Even ripe fruit, fresh oysters and 
new vegetables find their way out here within ten days after 
theii appearance in the Eastern markets. Cows are kept with 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 137 

each camp and fresh butter and milk greet the hungry traveler 
as he sits down at the hospitable board. Then, added to all 
these, they spread before you game of a dozen different varie- 
ties and all cooked to a turn. Buffalo hump, buffalo tender. 
loin, elk steak, roast loin of venison (mule deer and Virginia 
deer), antelope chops, roast duck and broiled prairie-chicken 
are a few of the delicacies with which our palates have been 
tickled since we came west. Good cooks are employed in 
these camps, the best that can be had in the Eastern cities 
for money,, and in many instances the cuisine equals that of 
the Palmer House or Grand Pacific. What is said here of 
the railroad people is generally true of the military. Major 
Comba and his command are living in comfortable log 
houses, floored and ceiled with dressed pine lumber. The 
rooms are well furnished. Ingrain and Brussels carpets, wal- 
nut bedsteads, bureaus, dressing cases, cast iron cook and 
heating stoves are among the items of furniture one sees in 
these quarters. 

The Little Missouri is one of the best game countries on 
the line of the road ; that is, the largest variety of game is 
found there. The bad lands furnish excellent cover for large 
game. There are timbered coolies all along the river and 
some timber along the banks of the river itself. There is 
good grazing and plenty of fresh water all through this region, 
and these conditions cause the game to congregate here. 
These bad lands are a favorite winter resort for the buffalo. 
In the deep cuts and canyons they are protected, in a great 
measure, from the severity of the weather and by pawing the 
snow away can always find plenty of good tender grass. At 
other seasons, however, they prefer the open plains. The 
Rocky Mountain sheep, elk, mule deer, Virginia deer, red 
fox, beaver, otter, mink, wolf and coyote are all found here 
in large numbers. Four mule deer, two elk, and two Rocky 



138 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

Mountain sheep were killed and brought into Major Combats 
camp within two or three days previous to the time of our 
visit. Two cinnamon -bears were killed here Imi winter, and 
others have been seen lately. 

They have a pet fawn of the mule deer species at this camp, 
that was caught by one of the Indian scouts last spring. It is 
now about half grown, and is very handsome. Its neck, back 
and sides are a dark lavender color ; belly and legs lighter, 
with a white spot on rump ; tail white, with black tip ; ears 
large; eyes dark, lustrous, and very expressive. The scouts 
caught several fawns last spring, but there were no cows in 
camp then, and no milk to feed them on, except the con- 
densed milk (or condemned, as the boys call it), and all the 
others died. This one was brought in just at the time when 
the first cow arrived in camp, and has been healthy and 
happy ever since. He roams at will about the camp, and is 
the equal in rank of any one he meets with, from private 
up to post commandant. 

Mr. Keith informed us that one day last fall, soon after he 
established his present camp, a noble old buck of the " big 
horn " species came to the top of a tall bluff that stands just 
back of his camp, some two hundred feet high, and remained 
for some minutes looking over the camp. As he stood there 
looking down with silent disdain upon his natural enemies, 
his long spiral horns, and heavy, well developed frame out- 
lined against the clear blue sky, Mr. Keith says he presented 
a picture worthy the pencil of a landseer. No one disturbed 
him, and after he had made a satisfactory survey of the camp, 
he retired. 

A good story is told on a couple of officers of this camp 
and two or three men who were out hunting a day or two 
before. They were returning to camp well laden with veni- 
son, when they discovered in the water, a short distance ahead, 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 139 

four wild geese. They slipped up within range, and opened 
fire on them. After a good deal of shooting they succeeded 
in bagging all four of them. Each member of the party was 
confident that he had killed one or more of them, and that it 
was the others who had done so much bad shooting. But the 
next day a ranchman, who lived in the neighborhood, turned 
up at headquarters and demanded pay for four ''pet" wild 
geese that the soldiers had killed the day before, and that 
belonged to him. Then a change came o'er the spirit of their 
dreams, and each man was confident that he had not killed 
any of them, that it was the "other boys " that had done the 
good shooting ; that he was a little off that day. Finally, by 
a preponderance of testimony, the geese, and likewise the 
cigars, were saddled onto Lieutenant McCoy, for it was 
pretty clearly shown that he had killed them all. The event 
was duly celebrated the night we were there, in an extempo- 
raneous song by Mr. Howard Eaton, of Pennsylvania, which 
brought down the house, and some more cigars. 

The Little Missouri bad lands are also rich in fossils, petri- 
factions and other geological specimens. I saw stumps of 
trees there seven or eight feet in diameter, and two to three 
feet high above the ground, that were perfectly petrified, and 
thus preserved intact. In some cases the bark remains on 
them as when in the full vigor of life. 

The roots can be traced into the ground several feet. 
There are numbers of these scattered along the line of the 
road, and many of them will eventually be dug up, shipped 
East, and placed on exhibition in museums, parks, and priv- 
ate grounds. I saw many fine specimens of marine fishes, 
mollusks, crustaceans, etc. , that the engineers and others had 
collected, and also found a number myself, which I brought 
home, and shall value them above almost any others in my 
collection, owing to the fact that they were collected whilQ 



140 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

on my first buffalo hunt. We pulled out early on Monday 
morning, the 20th, and a drive of five miles took us out of 
the bad lands and on to a most beautiful tract of rich, fertile 
prairie. Just on the margin of this prairie the trail passes 
through a very large prairie-dog town, or rather "republic." 
It covers some two or three hundred acres. As we came in 
sight of it we saw a hundred or more of the little spike-tailed 
republicans skurrying hither and thither, each making fof his 
own house. When they had found these they stopped, sat 
up on their haunches and commenced barking at us. Those 
nearest the trail disappeared as we approached them, but 
those at a little distance away held their ground, and kept up 
their noise. We got out and took a few shots at them. Mr. 
Van Vleck killed a very large one, the largest we saw on the 
trip, and probably the president of the republic. Fortunately, 
too, the force of the ball knocked him off the bank where he 
sat, and he died before he could reach his hole, so we recov- 
ered him. I skinned him, and have sent his skin to Dr. 
Velie,' secretary of the Chicago Academy of Science, to be 
mounted. 

We saw large numbers of antelopes during the day, but 
did not stop to shoot at them. We arrived at Camp Mcin- 
tosh, on Beaver creek, about sundown, and found Major Bell, 
Captain Borden, Lieutenant Defries, Surgeons Black and 
Ewing, and Post Trader Leasure as glad to see us as if we had 
been their paymaster and his escort. 

After the first interchange of congratulations we inquired 
eagerly as to the whereabouts of the buffalo, and received in 
reply the welcome news that they were in the vicinity of 
Cabin Creek, about fifty miles south of this campj that a 
scouting party had lately returned from that locality and 
reported the prairie black with them in every direction. The 
Major said the scouts had had difficulty in getting any water 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 141 

in that region fit for themselves or their ponies to drink, that 
it was all so strongly charged with buffalo manure and urine 
as to be unfit for use. He said furthermore that he wanted 
some fresh meat for his men, and would be glad to join us on 
the hunt, that he would take with him an escort of ten men 
and a team or two to bring in the meat. By the time these 
matters were arranged supper was announced, and we repaired 
to the Major's mess tent, where a spread awaited us that 
would have done honor to a king's table. There was venison 
steak, antelope steak, broiled buffalo tenderloin, Saratoga 
potatoes, baked sweet potatoes, stewed tomatoes, corn, 
vegetables, fruit, pastry, desserts, and other articles too 
numerous to mention. Imagine six hungry men arrayed 
before such a lay-out as this, six men who had ridden all day 
across the plains with a September wind fanning their manly 
brows — and appetites ; six men whose appetites had been 
sharpened for the last two hours by such news as we had been 
listening to ; and these six men being ordered by their host 
to ^^ pitch in." But, reader, if you have never been there, 
your imagination, however vivid, will fail to picture the scene 
correctly. The onslaught was furious, our victory was com- 
plete, and when we withdrew from that hospitable board the 
table looked as bare as the plains were reported to be, where 
the great herd of buffaloes had grazed over them. 

Supper over, w^e retired to our tent, where the Major, his 
subordinate officers and Mr. Leasure again joined us. They 
entertained us with reminiscences of frontier life, Indian war- 
fare, hunting yarns, etc., till the night waned into the wee 
sma' hours. Then they left us, and we retired to our bunks. 
But how is a man to sleep under such circumstances, with his 
mind full of such fancies as filled our minds that night ? 

Here we are, away out in Montana, more than a thousand 
miles from the stately edifice in which the'se lines will be put 



142 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

in type. There is more than an hour difference between the 
time at this point and Chicago. We must wait a whole hour 
after you have daylight there to-morrow morning ere the sun 
will deign to smile on us here. When we first see him here 
the early riser in Chicago will have eaten his breakfast, and 
will be on his way down town. 

Well, there's no use lying here — I can't sleep — so I turn 
out and take a stroll about camp. The moon is at the full, 
and in this clear, rarified western atmosphere, her light is so 
strong that I can even see to read the smallest type in a news- 
paper. The vigilant sentinel, pacing his beat in front of our 
tent, challenges me as I approach him, in a friendly tone, 
however, for he knows by my meek and lowly appearance 
that I am only a tenderfoot and that I have no blood in my 
eye. I recall some of my long-forgotten knowledge of mili- 
tary matters, and answer him in a manner that proves satis- 
factory, and then I proceed to buzz him awhile. Among 
other questions, I ask him if there are any Indians in this 
part of the country now. 

'^ No," said he, " there are none now. There was a band 
of five Sioux through here a week ago. I was out on a scout 
with an officer and thirty other men, going over toward 
Powder river, and we struck their trail about forty miles from 
here. The lieutenant detailed Sergeant Deavron and ten of 
us boys to follow that trail while he continued on his course. 
Two Cheyenne scouts were sent with us to trail them. They 
laid down alongside of their ponies, their heads as near the 
ground as they could get them, in order to be able to see the 
trail, and struck out at a lively trot. This was in the morn- 
ing. All day long they followed the trail without difficulty, 
while for the greater portion of the time we could see nothing 
of it. Whenever we came to the top of a ridge the scouts ' 
would take the field glass with which they had been provided, 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 143 

' and scan the country carefully as far as they could see. Late 
in the afternoon they spotted the Sioux crossing over a ridge 
about ten miles away. We could barely see them with the 
aid of the glass, and would not have guessed them to be 
Indians, but our scouts shouted ' Sioux, Sioux, five Sioux ! ' 
We had ridden hard since morning, our horses were tired, and 
the sergeant ordered a halt here for a rest and lunch, but our 
Indians wouldn't have it. They kept shouting, ' Sioux, Sioux, 
soldier heap damn lazy ! Come on ! ' So the sergeant told 
them to go and we would follow them. Then they patted us 
on the backs and said, ' Soldier heap bully; come on.' At 
this they dropped the trail and made a bee line for the top 
of the hill where we had seen the Sioux. We rode this ten 
miles under the spur, took up the trail again on the hill, and 
followed it into a timbered ravine. The scouts now told us 
that we were close to them, and that they had not yet see us. 
We rode cautiously and carried our carbines at a ''ready." 
Finally we sighted them at about five hundred yards, and 
before they knew that they were followed at all we gave them 
a volley, killing one of them and wounding two others. 

They returned the fire and then skipped out. As our 
horses were badly worn out with the long chase, and their 
ponies comparatively fresh, we knew it was useless to follow 
them. When we fired the volley our scouts disappeared. 
We didn't see which way they went nor how they got out of 
sight so quick ; but in about half an hour they returned with 
three ponies that they had captured from the Sioux. One 
had probably belonged to the Indian we killed, and they had 
been leading the other two. They then went for the dead 
Indian's scalp, but the sergeant wouldn't let them scalp him. 
After grazing our horses a few minutes and making coffee, we 
started back to the command. Pretty soon our scouts were 
missing again but that night they turned up and one of them 



144 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

had the dead Sioux's scalp. They also had about a dozen 
little scalps that they had cut off, after they got the main one, 
and these they gave to us boys. 

It was now about time for the relief guard and the senti- 
nel said I must retire from his beat. Besides, he said, I had 
better go to bed and sleep if I were going on a buffalo hunt 
to-morrow. So I bade him good-bye, and after taking a 
further stroll about the city of tents for half an hour, crawled 
into my blankers and went to sleep. 

I was out again at daylight, walked about camp and 
waited patiently for nearly an hour ere the welcome sound of 
reveille rang out on the clear morning air. Then all was 
bustle about the cam^p. The men turned out to roll call, then 
stable call sounded and they went forth to feed and groom 
their horses. The civilians of our party now began to stir 
out and from this on I had company. The morning was 
clear, cold and frosty; just such a morning as sends the blood 
tingling through the veins of the sportsman if he rises in 
time to get the benefit of it. 

Our plans were made late the previous night — after tattoo 
had sounded and the men had retired ; but the detail for our 
escort was announced early that morning and the busy notes 
of preparation were heard throughout the camp as the men 
packed the Major's tents, mess chest, cook stove, cooking 
utensils, provisions, etc., into the wagon. They packed their 
own blankets and shelter tents, filled their haversacks, car- 
tridge belts, and, in short, made every necessary preparation 
for a five days' scout. It took a greater portion of the fore- 
noon to fit out the expedition, but when we did move it was 
in a style that the general of the army, had he been a mem- 
ber of the party, would have felt proud of. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

AFTER THE BUFFALOES. 

WE START WELL EQUIPPED — CAMP AT BEAVER CREEK — THE ANTELOTE 
HARD TO KILL — DR. BLACK "ALL BROKE UP " — TAKES HIS SUPPER 
STANDING — GOOD MORNING'S SPORT — A BREAKFAST FIT FOR THE 
GODS — BUFFALOES AT LAST — "LET THEM HAVE IT " — THE 
BUFFALO TAKES A GOOD DEAL OF KILLING — SHARP'S RIFLES, 

Major Bell, mounted on his large handsome iron-gray 
charger, led the van, followed by Sergeant Deavron, Corporal 
Brown and ten picked men from Company F, of the famous 
Seventh Cavalry. Their horses are all fine large animals, in 
good condition, high spirits, perfectly groomed and capari- 
soned. The men are armed with the improved Springfield 
carbine. Our party on the buck-boards and spring wagon 
followed the escort, and the military wagons brought up the 
rear. 

Each member of our party carried a Sharp's rifle. Several 
of us had large navy revolvers for use when we should choose 
to hunt our buffalo on" horseback, and Judge Souther carried a 
Parker gun which came in good play several times, in bagging 
a few ducks and sharp-tail grouse, by way of variety. 

When we got about five miles from camp the major through 
out flankers or hunters to ride a mile or two to right and left 
of the trail in search of antelopes. Three of our party 
mounted their ponies and rode on the left flank with Major 
Bell. They saw several antelopes during the day, but they 
were wild, having been hunted so much near the trail, and it 
was difficult to get a shot at them. 

We who kept the trail met two different parties during the 

10 145 



146 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

afternoon coming in from the railroad work on the Yellow- 
stone river, both of whom reported having seen several small 
herds of buffaloes along the trail in the forenoon. They 
reported one herd within fifteen miles of where we then were, 
and thought we would be very likely to strike them before 
night. But night drew on and no buffaloes had been sighted 
by our horsemen, nor had they even succeeded in bagging an 
antelope. We began to think we should be without fresh meat 
for supper and breakfast, but just as the sun was sinking behind 
the hills we heard a shot away off to the right, and ten minutes 
later the Major came up to the column with a fine young 
antelope swinging from the pommel of his saddle. 

We went into camp at the head of Beaver Creek, twenty- 
seven miles from camp Mcintosh, at six o'clock, put up our 
tents, our Sibley heating stoves in them, collected a supply of 
dry wood, and made fires that heated the large wall tents as 
hot as we wanted them. While we were doing this, Mugler, 
the Major's cook, had set up his cookstove and prepared a 
supper that made us all feel glad we enlisted. As we partook 
of the juicy and delicate antelope steak the Major spoke of 
the great amount of vitality this animal possesses — of the 
amount of shooting it takes to kill it. He said he once shot 
one through the heart and it ran a hundred yards before it 
fell ; that he cut it open and examined its heart, and the 
bullet had passed directly through the center of it, tearing a 
hole nearly an inch in diameter. He said he shot another 
one that stood with its tail toward him. The ball cut off one 
hind leg and then entered its flank, cutting a long slit and 
letting a large portion of its entrails out, ranged forward, and 
cut its liver all to pieces ; that after all this it ran two hundred 
yards, and that nearly as fast as his horse could run. He says 
he considers them the hardest animal to kill that there is on 
the plains, except the buffalo and grizzly. 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 14 Y 

The only man in the party that is not happy to-night is 
Dr. Black. He has been riding to-day, for the first time, a 
very high-spirited horse, who insists on traveling all the time 
in a trot or canter. The Doctor has lately entered the service, 
fresh from college, and is not much of a horseman at best. 
He has whipped and spurred this noble animal ever since we left 
camp, trying to tame him down to a walk, and of course the 
more the Doctor plies his whip and spur, the more the horse 
won't walk. Moreover, he trots very roughly; at each step 
he throws the Doctor about eighteen inches into the air, and 
then meets him half way as he comes down. The result may 
be easily imagined. The Doctor is "all broke up," and says 
he is sorry he enlisted. He takes his supper standing 
to-night, and wants to trade places with the driver of our 
spring wagon for to-morrow. 

As the first streak of daylight appeared in the east on 
Wednesday morning, September 2 2d, I took the Judge's gun 
and went down along the creek to shoot a few ducks, while 
Mugler prepared breakfast. I bagged six, five mallards and 
a teal. I also killed a young, half-grown beaver, and saw 
several others, but could not get a shot at them. This creek 
is the home of large numbers of them. There are two new 
dams within a few rods of where we camped, and they may 
be found at short intervals all along the stream. It would be 
a good field for a trapper this coming winter. I returned to 
camp at a little after sunrise, and we partook of a breakfast 
prepared by Mugler' s skilful hands, and such as one rarely 
sits down to in camp. Imagine a breakfast out here on the 
plains, and while on the march, consisting of hot biscuits, 
baked potatoes, venison and antelope steak, apple sauce, 
baked sweet potatoes, and cofiee with real cream in it. And 
yet such was our bill of fare on this occasion, and with suit- 
able variations at every meal during the whole time we were out. 



148 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

Just as we finished breakfasting an antelope appeared on 
top of a ridge half a mile away, and one of the '' 7th " boys 
picked up his carbine, ran to the brow of another ridge 
within about two hundred yards, fired, and knocked it down. 
He started to go up to it, when it recovered from the shock 
sufficiently to get up and run. He fired two more shots at it 
as it ran, one of which hit it, but still not fatally. As he had 
only taken three cartridges with him, he was compelled to 
give up the game and return to camp, but as the animal had 
taken the course upon which our route lay, we overhauled him 
soon after leaving camp, and a ball from the Major's rifle 
finished him. 

While we were striking tents and packing up preparatory 
to the start, we saw a lone horseman coming from the east. 
It proved to be Mr. Hill, who had become separated from us 
the evening previous while on the march. He had been 
unable to find us again before night set in, and spent the 
night on the prairie, alone, with the broad canopy of heaven 
for a tent, and the cold, cold ground for a bed. He said 
there was one advantage in staying out all night — that a 
fellow was sure to get up early in the morning, but he pre- 
ferred to camp with the other boys in future, even if he didn't 
wake up quite so early. 

We resumed the march at eight o'clock ; Major Bell threw 
out scouts to right, left, and in front, with instructions to 
cover as much ground as possible, and whenever they sighted 
buffalo to come in and report to him at once. We moved 
along at a good gait until half-past ten o'clock, when we saw 
the half-breed scout and one of the soldiers on top of a tall 
butte, about two miles ahead of us. They had stopped and 
dismounted. We knew at once that they had sighted game, 
and we were in a fever of excitement to know what was ahead. 
They mounted, rode back to us, and imparted' the welcome 



/TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 149 

news that at last we had reached the buffaloes ! They said there 
were five very large ones grazing in a valley just beyond the 
butte where they had halted, and that the lay of the ground 
was such as to give us every advantage in approaching them. 

We plied spur and whip, and in a few minutes were as 
near the quarry as it was safe to go with the teams. Here we 
dismounted, gave the teams in charge of Kelly, and the sad- 
dle horses in charge of a man detailed to hold them. Major 
Bell then crawled to the top of an adjacent ridge to recon- 
noiter. When he returned he said we were within two hun- 
dred yards of them, and that they had not yet discovered us ; 
that we were squarely to leeward of them, and that a friendly 
rise of ground near them would enable us to shorten the dis- 
tance by at least one half before they could possibly discover 
us. 

We then formed in line and started for the top of this 
ridge. We moved cautiously, slowly, silently. No one 
spoke above a whisper. The soldiers held their triggers back 
while cocking their carbines, so as to perform the operation 
in perfect silence. Those of us who had hammerless rifles 
pulled the safety triggers back so carefully that they gave forth 
no sound. 

We are now so near the apex of the ridge it is necessary 
to stoop low to conceal ourselves from the game ; but still we 
press silently, breathlessly forward. Now we are as near the 
summit as we dare go without giving the alarm. We pause, 
raise our heads, and peer cautiously over. And what a sub- 
lime, what a magnificent sight greets our eager eyes ! There, 
down in that little swale, within less than a hundred yards of 
us, stand five of as noble specimens of the American bison as 
were ever seen upon these plains. They are all large bulls, old 
patriarchs of the herd, and they have not yet seen, heard or 
scented us. They are quietly grazing, totally unconscious of 



150 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

danger. Little do they dream that within the next thirty 
seconds each one of them is to feel half a dozen leaden mes- 
sengers of death crashing through his majestic frame. And 
still we pause. We are unwilling to break the spell — to de- 
stroy this grand picture — this picture to look upon which men 
would come and have come from all parts of the civilized 
world. Yes, to gaze but for a moment on this picture — on 
these grand old bisons, roaming at will here upon their native 
heaths, would well repay a trip from the remotest part of 
Europe or the Orient. It is the event of a lifetime. It is a 
privilege for which men would give hundreds, yes, thousands of 
dollars, and yet it is a privilege which but one man in a 
thousand ever enjoys. 

But our reverie is interrupted by the voice of our leader: 
''Let them have it," he says, and the response is spoken by 
our rifles. Spat, spat, spat, go the bullets into the huge car- 
casses of the buffaloes, at square broadside, and they break 
into their heavy, rolling run. They are all hit, and perhaps 
fatally ; but he who looks to see a buffalo fall from the first 
shot, or even the first volley, is sure to be disappointed. We 
slip in fresh cartridges and give them another round, and an- 
other, and another, until they are out of range. Then our 
horsemen mount and pursue them. One of the wounded 
animals turns out of the file and circles away to the right. 
The great gouts of blood issuing from his nostrils, tell us 
plainly that he has been shot through the lungs, and cannot 
go far. After running, perhaps a quarter of a mile, he stops, 
and a bullet from Mr. Van Vleck's rifle finishes him. Major 
Bell, with characteristic courtesy, orders four of his men to 
pursue the other wounded animals and not to shoot at them, 
but to turn them back, if possible, that we, his guests, may 
further enjoy the sport. But they are so thoroughly panic- 
stricken that, although the gallant troopers ride directly 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 161 

alongside of and around them, firing their revolvers in the 
air and shouting, the infuriated animals refuse to change their 
course, and in a few minutes are miles away. And thus ends 
our first set-to with the buffalo. 

The reader will justly wonder that we did not kill more of 
them, that we allowed any of them to escape. We, who had 
never before hunte4 buffaloes, were at first surprised our- 
selves ; but when we remembered what we had read and been 
told about the amount of shooting necessary to bring down a 
buffak), we marveled no longer. Subsequent experience 
proved that it takes, on an average, five to ten bullets to stop 
one within a reasonable distance, depending on the portion of 
the body through which the balls pass. Of course, one ball 
through almost any part of the trunk of the animal will cause 
death eventually, but the great amount of vitality he possesses 
will enable him to travel miles ere he succumbs. That we 
did not kill the others dead in their tracks was not owing to 
bad shooting. We could plainly hear our bullets strike the 
animals, and see them flinch as they felt the effect of the shot. 
The soldiers who pursued them said they saw blood streaming 
from every one of them when riding within a few feet of them, 
and they had no doubt but that every one of them would die 
before night. 

The one we secured had nine bullet holes in him, and the 
majority of the balls had passed entirely through him, which 
fact spoke highly of the hard-hitting qualities of our Sharp's 
and Springfield rifles. The reader will pardon me for digress- 
ing here to state for the information of those concerned, that 
a large majority of the frontiersmen I met with — in fact, 
nearly all of them — used Sharp's rifles. I saw probably a 
hundred of these in my travels, and only three or four of any 
other kind. I questioned a great many of the men who use 
them, as to their effectiveness and adaptation to frontier use, 



152 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

and they all pronounce them the best arm in use, all things 
considered, for that purpose. Nearly all now in use are of 
the new hammerless model, forty-five caliber. The troops, 
of course, are armed with the improved Springfield, and it is 
well adapted to both military and sporting purposes. 

After cutting up the bull we had killed and taking out 
such portions of the meat as were edible, we resumed our 
way. A few miles from this point we entered the Cabin creek 
valley. The soil here is so strongly impregnated with alkali 
as to give it much of the appearance of ashes. It is said that 
in the wet season the decomposition of chemical matter in the 
soil renders it so soft and slushy as to be almost impassable for 
man or beast. We found here some good specimens of mica, 
gypsum and other crystals. The water in Cabin creek is 
strongly charged with alkali, but not so much so as to render it 
wholly unfit for use. We were very thirsty when we reached 
it and drank heartily of it without any serious consequences. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND BUFFALOES. 

SMALL HERDS OF BUFFALOES — THE GREAT HERD — AN EARLY MORNING 
HUNT — " OLD RELIABLE " CHARGES A BUFFALO — MY FIRST BUFFALO 
LIES DEAD AT MY FEET — BACK TO CAMP — CORPORAL BROWN 
COUNSELS CAUTION — STARTLED BY WHITE MEN — MY BUFFALO 
WEIGHS FOURTEEN HUNDRED POUNDS. 

Just before reaching the creek we struck the Keough stage 
trail, a tolerably fair road leading from Bismarck to Fort 
Keough. There is a line of stages, so called, buckboards in 
fact, running between these two points, which carry the mail, 
express matter, and any passengers who have courage enough 
to risk their scalps in making the trip. They run every day so 
that Fort Keough, Miles City, and other towns situated from 
three to five hundred miles west of Bismarck, get daily mails 
when the weather or Indians don't interfere. During the 
winter, however, the line is frequently impassable for weeks 
at a time, and at other seasons of the year much trouble is 
experienced from the Indians. Since the opening of the line 
several drivers and station keepers and a few passengers have 
been killed and a good deal of stock stolen. 

There are feeding stations every seventeen miles and 
relay stations every thirty-four miles along the line where 
fresh ponies are supplied. These stations consist merely of a 
log cabin, or ''shack," a stable and a stack of hay. The 
garrison consists of one, and in some cases two men, and the 
armament consists of a rifle for each man. The passenger 
tariff on this line is fifteen cents a mile and the passenger 
runs his own risk of being scalped. We went west on this 

X53 



154 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

trail from Cabin Creek and at three o'clock p.m. reached 
Pennell station, about 225 miles west of Bismarck, and went 
into camp. 

We were then in the immediate vicinity of several small 
herds of buffaloes and we broke up into small parties and went 
in various directions in search of them. Major Bell went 
west, Mr. Bellows, Judge Souther and Messrs. Fogarty, Van 
Vleck and Hill went north, parties of soldiers in various 
directions, and I went south: After walking about two miles 
I reached the top of a high ridge that commanded a fine view 
of a vast stretch of country to the south and west. At a dis- 
tance of two miles from where I stood I saw two herds, one 
of about thirty and the other of seventy-five to eighty ; but 
the sun was then setting and I knew that before I could reach 
them it would be too dark to see to shoot accurately, so I 
reluctantly returned to camp where I arrived soon after dark. 

My friends had reached camp before me, and reported 
having had grand sport. They had found a herd of eleven, 
out of which they had killed five ; Mr. Bellows, the Judge, 
Fogarty, Van and Hill each selecting an animal, following 
him up and pumping lead into him until he was brought to 
the earth. The Major saw two small herds, but as he was 
with us more as leader than as hunter, and preferred to leave 
the greater portion of the sport to us, he made no attempt to 
get a shot at them. 

Lance, the Major's orderly, and the half-breed scout did 
not return until after ten o'clock. We all supposed they had 
lost their course and camped alone, but just as we were retir- 
ing they rode in and reported having struck the main herd 
about twelve miles to the north of us. They reached it just 
at sunset and said that as far as they could see, to the right, 
left, and in front, the prairie was black with buffaloes. They 
estimated the herd to contain at least two hundred thousand ! 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 155 

The half-breed is a native of the plains. Lance has' seen 
several years' of frontier service, and consequently both are 
accustomed to seeing and hunting buffaloes. It is not likely, 
therefore that they overestimated the size of the herd. They 
killed several choice young bulls and heifers and said they 
could have slaughtered a hundred of them had they chosen 
to do so. But they only killed such a number as the teams 
could take care of the next morning. 

This is said to be about the only great herd of this noble 
animal now remaining in the Northwest. Twenty years ago 
such herds could be found in every valley, in every good grazing 
district in all the great West, but the constant and yearly 
increasing slaughter by market hunters, those who kill them 
merely for their hides, has reduced them to this one herd in 
the North and one or two smaller herds in the South. The 
progress of civilization westward is yearly curtailing their 
range, and the building of railroads into the very heart of 
their country is rendering the killing of them for marketing 
purposes still more lucrative. In view of all these facts I repeat 
that he who would kill a buffalo or even see one alive on his 
native range, must do so within the next five years, or the 
opportunity will be forever past. I believe that ten years 
hence they will be almost entirely extinct if not protected. 

On Thursday morning, the 23d, I crawled out of the tent 
at daylight without disturbing my companions, and, equipped 
for action, I made a bee-line for the place where I had seen 
the two herds the night before. But when I reached the top 
of the ridge from which I had seen them and eagerly scanned 
the valley to the north, south and west as far as I could see, I 
was sadly disappointed to find that they were nowhere to be 
seen. They had left for parts unknown. But while looking 
for them I saw two very large bulls grazing in the valley half- 
a-mile below me, and proceeded to lay my plans for stalking 



156 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

them. I saw at once, however, that this would be very diffi- 
cult to do, for they were on the top of a small ridge that 
commanded a full view of all the ground within three or four 
hundred yards of them, except one very small cooley. If I 
could get into this I could approach within short range of 
them. But how to get there was the question. I made a 
wide detour to get to leeward of them, keeping far enough 
away to prevent them from seeing me. When the wind finally 
blew squarely in my eye as I looked at them, I commenced 
the approach. I sought the lowest ground I could find, but 
go where I would I was in full view of them. Finally I 
reached a low swale, in which, by lying down, I could con- 
ceal myself from them. Here I crawled, prone upon the 
ground, through cactus, sage brush and sharp, flinty stones, a 
distance of three or four hundred yards. This at last brought 
me to the cooley or ravine that I so longed to reach. Up 
this I moved rapidly but stealthily until within about three 
hundred yards of my game. Here the cooley turned squarely 
to the left and would not carry me any closer if I followed it 
further. So I must shoot from here or crawl again. 

Which shall I do? I can hit one of them from here, but 
am somewhat tired and nervous from my long and laborious 
crawling, and whether I can put the first ball where it will do 
the most good is a serious question. Then after the first'shot, 
the subsequent ones must be made on the run, and the dis- 
tance will render these still more uncertain. So I will crawl 
again. But the sun has risen, is shining brightly, and as I 
emerge from the cooley and start up the swale, though I lay 
perfectly flat, my shadow is thrown strongly against the side 
of the ridge on the opposite side of the cooley. Will they 
not see this, and take the alarm? Well, I can only hope not, 
for there is no other course open to me. I move very slowly 
now, frequently stopping and peering cautiously over the 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 157 

short grass, to see if I am discovered. But no ; they are 
still feeding, and I move on. Now I look again, and sure 
enough one of them has seen my shadow. He has stopped 
feeding and is looking intently at it. Now is my last chance. 
Not a moment is to be lost. I measure the ground with my 
eye quickly and see that perseverance has accomplished its 
object. I am now within a hundred and fifty yards of my 
game. I select the largest of the two, raise on my elbpws — 
the ''Bodine position" — and hold, not for his heart, but for 
a larger target, his lungs, which lie just above and in front of 
the heart. I pull, and as the voice of ''old reliable" rings 
out upon the clear morning air, I hear the bullet "spat" 
against the tough skin of the old monarch. He lashes his 
tail, bounds convulsively, and he and his mate break into 
their heavy, rolling, shambling run. I put in another car- 
tridge and give him another shot, and then another, both of 
which I plainly hear strike him. By this time they have 
passed behind a hill and are out of sight. I run to the top of 
this hill, and on the way cross their trail, which I find marked 
with blood. Yes, it is from his nostrils, too. My first shot 
did its work well — it went through his lungs and he cannot 
go far. As I reach the top of the hill I see them standing 
some three hundred yards beyond. 

I was now certain of the wounded bull, and turned my 
attention to the other. The first shot hit him, and as he ran 
I gave him two more, but although badly hurt he carried 
away my lead. The one I first shot followed as far as he 
could, but after running about a quarter of a mile he stopped, 
swayed to and fro, staggered, and fell heavily to the earth. 

I walk deliberately up to the dead monarch and gaze 
upon him in silent admiration for several minutes. This is, 
indeed, one of the proudest moments of my life. This is 



158 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

my first buffalo. Moreover I have killed him alone and 
unaided — there is no lead in him but my own. 

Now that the excitement is over I realize the fact that I 
am over three miles from camp and entirely alone. I remem- 
ber that we have all along been on the lookout for Indians 
and have been prepared to meet them. The Sioux, of course, 
know where these buffaloes are as well as we do, and that 
bands of them are likely to be out here laying in their win- 
ter's supply of meat, is the most natural conclusion in the 
the world. I instinctively feel for the top of my head, but 
then I reflect that bald-headed men don't make good scalps, 
and I feel a little safer. However, I felt that I ought to go to 
camp at once for it was breakfast time, so I went. When I 
arrived there my friends had finished eating, liitched up the 
teams, and were waiting for me to join them in another hunt. 

I ate a very hearty breakfast in a very short space of time, 
and we were off again, the Judge and Mr. Bellows on one 
buckboard, the Major and I on the other, and the boys on 
horseback. We drove southwest about fifteen miles, but did 
not succeed in finding any game. We returned to camp at 
three o'clock in the afternoon, when Corporal Brown and I 
took one of the teams and went out to skin the buffalo I had 
killed in the morning. We found it a very difficult task. He 
was an unusually large and very old one, and the skin about 
the head and neck was from a half to three-quarters of an 
inch thick. The fur was in fair condition, much better than 
it usually is at this time of year. 

When we commenced the operation the corporal re- 
minded me that it would be prudent to load our rifles and 
lay them close at hand, for said he, "We never know in this 
country when we are going to be jumped by Indians, and we 
make it a point to always be ready for them." As we pro- 
ceeded with the work we frequently stopped and looked 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 159 

cautiously* over the surrounding country, but seeing neither 
Indians or other game and becoming more deeply interested 
in our work, we became less vigilant. We were working with 
a will and had almost entirely forgotten our self-imposed 
duties as sentries when we heard a voice, and looking sud- 
denly in the direction from which it came, we saw three men 
emerging from a ravine within thirty yards of us ! They 
were white men, for which fact we felt devoutly thankful, for 
had they been redskins they might easily have had our mules, 
our rifles and our scalps. We felt considerably chagrined at 
having allowed ourselves to be caught so entirely off our 
guard, and our visitors appreciated the joke all the more that 
they had not tried to steal the march on us at all, but had 
walked briskly along conversing in their usual tones. They 
proved to be the party of market hunters I had met on the 
train from Bismarck to Green river. They had come through 
from the latter place by team and encamped in the vicinity 
of our camp. They had not yet found any buffaloes, and we 
treated them to a liberal supply of ''hump." from the one we 
were at work on, for their table. They came just in time 
to give us a hand at turning the carcass over, a thing the 
corporal and I should not have been able to do alone without 
first cutting it up. They estimated that the animal would 
weigh fourteen hundred pounds, gross. 

At about six o'clock we finished our task, rolled up the 
skin and put it on the buckboard, cut out the best of the 
meat, and started for camp. On the way in Corporal Brown 
made a very fine shot at an antelope, cutting him down clean 
at three hundred and fifty yards. 

Fogarty, Van Vleck, and Hill, who had ridden south 
about fifteen miles, came in late and reported having struck a 
herd of about two hundred, besides several smaller herds. 
They only killed two, as they were so far from camp that they 



160 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

could not bring in the meat, and as we had decided to move 
north the next day, should not be able to send the teams for 
it. Some of the soldiers who had been out north reported 
having seen a very large herd moving toward Beaver creek. 
We felt sure we should find them on the morrow, as that was 
the direction in which we had arranged to move. We 
retired to rest late at night, well pleased with the day's sport 
as a whole, having killed three buffaloes and an antelope. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THROUGH AN EXTINCT HELL! 

ANOTHER HERD OF BUFFALOES — AN UNUSUAL EXPERIENCE — A GRAND 
LEAP FOR LIFE — PURSUING THE HERD — BACK THROUGH THE BAD 
LANDS — BLACK-TAIL DEER — STILL AFTER THE BUFFALOES — DE- 
FEATED — MORE SPORT — CLOSE QUARTERS — THE BISON YIELDS — 
THE HUNT IS UP. 

We awoke on Friday morning, September 24th, to find a 
raw, cold, northwest wind blowing, accompanied by a rain 
that seemed to wet us, even through our heavy rubber suits. 
Truly a bad day for our business, but time was precious with 
most of us, and we had journeyed too far to waste any of it 
lying in camp waiting for fair weather, so we struck tents, 
packed up, and pulled out for Beaver creek on our return to 
Camp Mcintosh. 

At about five miles from Pennel station we again entered 
the Cabin creek bad lands. As we halted on the margin of 
the prairie overlooking this valley it seemed folly to attempt 
to cross them with our teams. Here were abrupt hills, 
gullies, buttes, rocky precipices, gulches, canyons, extinct 
craters, great heaps of scoria and debiHs of various kinds, all 
mixed and jumbled together in an indescribable and almost 
indiscernible mass. How on earth could any human being 
ever find a passage through this extinct hell (as General Sully 
termed it) on foot ? And if such a feat seemed impossible 
how were we to make the passage with our heavily-loaded 
teams ? There was no trail, and no evidence that any man 
or body of men had ever crossed through here, yet Major Bell 
11 161 



162 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

said we could do it, and we simply said we would go where- 
ever he told us to go. 

At this juncture we sighted a herd of about two hundred 
head of buffaloes, grazing on the creek bottom two miles 
ahead in the direct line of our march, and started for them. 
The descent into the valley was comparatively easy, the worst 
portion of the bad lands lying beyond the creek. Still we 
had to pick our route very cautiously, and our progress was 
slow and tedious. Finally we reached a point as near the 
herd as we could drive the teams, and dismounted. Unfor- 
tunately we were on the windward side of the herd, and as a 
broad level plateau stretched away beyond them it was im- 
possible for us to approach them from the leeward. A few of 
our party succeeded in getting within range, however, and 
gave them a volley. Then were we treated to a spectacle 
that only falls to the lot of a professional plainsman to witness 
once in a lifetime. Perhaps not one in ten thousand who go 
from the States for a buffalo hunt would ever see it. It is a 
thing we have read of in our boyhood days ; a thing we have 
seen delineated on canvas, or on steel, but we never hoped to 
see it enacted in real life. 

At the first volley the herd stampeded. Not only did the 
reports of our rifles alarm them but they winded us at the 
same time, and, as they started to move, our horsemen charged 
them, firing as they ran. The consternation of the herd was 
complete. They took a westerly course over what appeared 
to be a perfectly level stretch of ground for two miles down 
the valley. Little did they expect to meet with any obstacle 
to their flight. Like chaff before a gale, they fairly flew. 
Only the fleetest horse could successfully cope with them in 
speed. They had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile — just far 
enough to become thoroughly warmed to the flight — their 
excitement at fever heat — when suddenly the leaders of the 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. ^ 163 

herd, several of the largest and fleetest bulls, were seen to plant 
all four of their feet firmly in the ground and throw their 
huge bodies backward upon their haunches in a vain endeavor 
to stop. What is it that can thus check their mad career? 
We look quickly ahead of them, and a single glance explains 
it all. There, just ahead of them, under the very feet of the 
leaders, is a perpendicular precipice seventy feet high. Great 
heavens, must they go down this? Must they take this dizzy 
plunge? They will be dashed to pieces, mutilated beyond 
description or recognition. But there is no help for it. 
Their momentum exceeds all their great strength. Besides, 
those in their rear rush headlong against them, impelling them 
irresistibly to destruction, and losing their footing they fall 
headlong, summersaulting through the air, down this frightful 
precipice ! They piled up at the foot of the embankment 
three, six, ten deep, in a struggling, writhing, surging 
mass. 

A few of those farther back in the herd, when they saw 
their leaders halt and plunge out of sight, wavered, checked 
th ,nr speed in time to save themselves and, sheering off to the 
left, went down a ravine, and thus escaped the fate of those in 
front j but not until seventeen of them had taken this fearful 
leap was the line broken. We rushed to the brink of the 
precipice fully expecting to find all, or nearly all, of those who 
had gone over lying dead in a heap, but to our utter amaze- 
ment not one of them was killed. Fortunately for them, there 
were no rocks there for them to fall on, but on the contrary a 
large alkali bed, of about the consistency of mortar. In this 
they were rolling and struggling, and when they finally 
emerged from it it would have been difficult to determine to 
what species they belonged. As they galloped away across 
the valley, plastered from head to foot with this white mud, 
they presented such a ludicrous appearance as to provoke 



164 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

shouts of merriment from all who saw them. And thus was a 
tragedy suddenly transformed into a farce. 

As soon as we recovered from the effects of the scene we 
had witnessed, several of our horsemen mounted, pursued, and 
overtook the herd, charged them, and killed three of them- 
Then we resumed our difficult and perilous journey through 
the bad lands. We wound through narrow defiles where there 
was barely room for a team to move ; we drove along the very 
brink of deep gulches, where a swerve of a foot out of the 
proper course would have sent team and driver on even a 
worse plunge than the buffaloes made. We crossed deep 
gullies, the banks of which were so abrupt that, as we went 
down, we had to brace ourselves and hang on with all our 
strength to avoid tumbling over the dashboard, and as the 
mules started up the opposite bank we could easily take hold 
of their ears without leaving our seats. 

Finally, after four hours of this toiling, we ascended onto 
the high, open prairie again. There we halted, and with one 
accord congratulated Major Bell upon the ingenuity and skill 
with which he had selected the route and piloted us through 
this seemingly impassable region. 

During the passage through this strip of bad lands we 
jumped several mule deer, but owing to the character of the 
ground only succeeded in killing one. This is a favorite 
cover for them, and a large number of them could easily be 
killed in a day's hunting. This variety of the cervidce is 
generally known throughout Dakota, Montana, and other 
adjacent territories, as the black-tailed deer, but this is not its 
proper name. Judge Caton, than whom there is no better 
authority on the cervidce of America, proves conclusively that 
the black-tail deer inhabits Oregon and Washington territo- 
ries only, and has never been found east of the Sierra Nevada 
mountains. In the black-tailed deer almost the entire tail is 



' TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 165 

black, while in the mule deer, the species we killed, it is 
nearly all white, having but a few black hairs on the tip. 
The mule deer is so called from the large size of its ears and 
their resemblance to those of the mule, while in the black-tail 
deer the ears are nearly identical in size and shape with those 
of the Virginia or red deer. 

We arrived at the head of Beaver creek (the scene of our 
first night's camp on the outward march) at seven o'clock in 
the evening, and were gratified to see a large herd of buffaloes 
grazing in a valley only about two miles away. It was too 
late to go after them then, but we felt sure they would be 
there m the morning, and so they were. 

After a sound night's sleep we were up at daylight and 
again on the war-path. The herd had moved but a short 
distance from where we saw them the night before. We had 
ridden but a few miles when we again saw them lying down. 
They were sleeping later than usual, probably owing to the 
inclement weather. The cold rain of the previous day con- 
tinued to fall at intervals and the buffaloes dislike to move 
about much in such weather. We found it very difficult to get 
to leeward of this herd, owing to the formation of the ground. 
While attempting to do so they winded us and stampeded up a 
valley before we got a shot at them. We knew they would 
not go far, so we followed them. When we reached the top 
of a high ridge we saw several smaller herds in different 
directions. Here Mr. Van Vleck kindly offered me his little 
bronco pony to ride for the purpose of taking a run after 
them. He had made me the same offer several times before, 
but I had declined it. This, however, was to be the last day 
g{ the hunt, and I now gladly accepted. I mounted and Mr. 
Fogarty and I started for eight old bulls that we saw a mile 
or two to the south. We rode up a valley running parallel to 



166 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

the one they were in, hoping to pass and get to leeward of 
them before they should scent us. 

Occasionally we rode cautiously up the ridge and peered 
over to keep the lay of the land, but before we could get 
favorable ground on which to make the crossing they winded 
us, sure enough, and started at full speed for the bad lands, 
which at this point were but two miles away. Then we con- 
cluded to try speed with them, although they had the start by 
a long stretch, so, dropping back over the ridge that our pres- 
ence might not unnecessarily frighten them, we spurred our 
ponies and the race began. We hoped to be able to head 
them off before they reached the bad lands and turn them 
back in the direction of our comrades. After covering the 
two miles we wheeled to the right, fully expecting to find 
ourselves ahead and to charge the bulls ; but, alas ! we had 
sadly overestimated the speed of our ponies or underesti- 
mated that of the bison, for when we reached the top of the 
ridge there stood the eight old monarchs on the top of 
another ridge still ahead of us. They were masters of the 
situation. They were on the very brink of the bad lands, 
whither they seemed to know we could not follow them. 
They were drawn up in line like so many knights of old, as if 
determined to resist our further advance, even to the death. 
As they stood there facing us, frowning down upon us with 
disdainful, majestic mien, their mammoth forms outlined 
against the gray, misty clouds, they loomed up like distant 
mountains. They seemed to bid us defiance. No artist could 
ever do that picture justice. We did not fire at them, as we 
knew it would be useless while they stood with their heads 
toward us. The only effective shot at a buffalo, generally- 
speaking, is a broadside. We wheeled again, rode round a 
neighboring butte in hopes of getting a broadside at them 
yet, but when we again came in sight of where we left them 



TEN DAYS IN IvIONTANA. 167 

chey were not there. They had fled into the bad lands, and 
nothing remained for us but to acknowledge defeat and 
retrace our steps. 

All this time we had heard firing on our right and knew that 
the other boys were having their sport. We rode over to them 
and found that Judge Souther, Hill and Lance had each killed 
one. We cut them up as quickly as possible, loaded them 
onto the wagons and again started in the direction of camp. 
We had gone but a few miles when we saw still another herd 
of about two hundred. We were already to leeward of these 
and had no trouble in getting a choice position for the first 
shot. Nearly. all the party dismounted, walked cautiously to 
the top of a hill within about a hundred and fifty yards of 
the herd, and gave them a volley. Then a number of other 
shots were fired in rapid succession before the herd got out 
of range. When the first volley was fired, I rode quickly to 
the top of the hill to watch the effect and await a cessation of 
hostilities, so that I could ride in. As the herd started, 
at the first round, three animals — a bull, a cow and a calf — 
fell out of the ranks mortally wounded. 

As soon as the firing ceased, I put spurs to my pony and 
started in pursuit of the herd. A stern chase is a long chase, 
and so it proved in this instance. No one who has not seen 
a practical demonstration of it would believe that the heavy, 
clumsy-looking animal, the bison, possesses speed equal to 
that of the horse in general, but such is the fact. It takes an 
unusually fleet horse, and one of good bottom, to catch a 
sound buffalo, and a horse, that is not superior to his class in 
speed will get sadly left in the race every time he under- 
takes it. 

Waiting for my friends to get all the shooting they could 
on foot before I started, had given the herd nearly a quarter 
of a mile the start of me, but the little bronco, when I gave 



168 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

him the spur and the rein, flew like the wind. The herd 
started up a long '' divide," over ground as hard and smooth 
as a race track, and as they had about three miles to run be- 
fore reaching the bad lands, I had every advantage I could 
wish for. My pony gained steadily on them, and the nearer 
he got to them the more he became imbued with the spirit of 
the chase. Finally, he laid me alongside of the herd, but it 
was stretched out to a great length, running in single file, or 
nearly so, and those in the rear were the slowest and least 
desirable animals of all. So I encouraged my pony, and 
with a renewed effort he carried me up along the line, passing 
the rear guard, then the center of the herd, and finally well 
toward its head. What an exciting scene is this! Here lam, 
riding within ten feet of this vast throng of fleeing, panic- 
stricken monsters. What if my horse should make a misstep 
and fall ; what if he should become suddenly panic-stricken, 
too, — become unmanageable and throw me ? Then, indeed, 
would death be my certain lot, for I should surely be trampled 
into the earth. 

But the excitement of the sport outweighs all sense of 
.^anger, and I would not for a thousand dollars be elsewhere 
than just where I am. Finally I selected the animal I 
wanted, — a young, active, vicious-looking bull — a foeman 
worthy of my steel. I drew my revolver and fired at him. I 
saw the dirt fly beyond, and thought I had missed him, but 
another glance told me that the bullet had passed through his 
neck. At this he had dropped out of the ranks and circled off 
to the left. I pursued him, and riding up close to him gave 
him two more shots, when he stopped suddenly, turned and 
charged me, as if intent upon wreaking vengeance on me for 
the wrong I had done him. 

My pony was well used to this sort of thing, and needed 
little direction from me to wheel and bound away out of 



TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 169 

reach of the infuriated animal. As soon as the bull stopped I 
wheeled again, rode up to him on the other side, and taking 
deliberate aim at the region of his lungs, fired again. He 
turned and came at me again, but little Bronco still kept 
out of his reach. Another ball went crashing through his 
ribs, and again he charged me with the same result. I then 
gave him the last charge I had in my revolver, and still he 
kept his feet, but was too weak from loss of blood to again 
attack me. He now stood with his head down, looking 
moodily and sullenly at me, turning as I rode round him, so 
as to face me all the time. Finally I unslung my rifle from 
the saddle, and slipping in an explosive ball, fired it into him 
and brought him down. 

When I first attacked the herd and brought this bull out 
of it several of those in rear of him became demoralized and 
left, too. They turned and fled in different directions, and 
Mr. Fogarty and other members of the party coming up, 
killed three of them, which with the three killed from the 
first firing, made six in all that we got out of this herd. 

We cut these up, took the best of the meat, and again 
moved rapidly toward Major Bell's camp, where we arrived 
at seven o'clock in the evenmg. 

And thus ends the story of my first buffalo hunt. It 
was a most pleasant and successful one in every respect, 
barring the weather of the last two days. We killed in all 
sixty-four buffaloes, seven antelopes and two mule deer, 
besides a goodly quantity of small game. 

Some of my readers may accuse us of slaughtering an 
undue number of buffaloes, but when I remind them that we 
saved nearly all the meat, and took it into camp, where the 
troops made good use of it; that there were nearly twenty 
men in our party, making the number killed average but 
little more than three to each man, and that we had ample 



170 TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 

opportunities to have killed at least three times the number 
we did kill, but stopped as soon as we had all we could take 
care of, I trust, dear reader, that you will withdraw the 
charge. Two, at least, of the party traveled over 2,000 
miles to engage in this hunt, and in view of this and the 
other facts *' hereinbefore set forth," we consider three buf- 
faloes to each man a very modest bag. 

By prolonging our stay we could have killed hundreds, 
but there was not a man in the party who did not express 
himself as opposed to any waste of this noble animal. Would 
that I could say as much for every man who has ever been on 
the plains. If so, the buffaloes would be almost as plentiful 
there to-day as they ever were. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

JACKSONVILLE — A CITY OF ORANGE GROVES — ON BOARD THE "PAS- 
TIME" — MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE'S WINTER HOME — HIBER- 
NIA — MAGNOLIA — PALATKA — " THERE'S AN ALLIGATOR ! " — FINE 
SPORT — LAKE GEORGE — MANHATTAN — WILLIAM ASTOR'S ORANGE 
GROVE — AN ALLIGATOR THIRTY FEET LONG — DR. SPALDING'S 
TROUT ST. AUGUSTINE, THE OLDEST CITY IN THE UNITED STATES. 

As every sportsman who visits Florida will, of course, 
visit Jacksonville, and as he may perhaps wish to know some- 
thing of this, the commercial metropolis of the State, before 
coming here, I shall give a brief description of it. 

It is situated on the St. John's river, twenty miles from 
its mouth, and has become in the past few years an important 
railroad, manufacturing and commercial center. The 
Atlantic & Gulf, Jacksonville, Pensacola & Mobile, Florida 
Central, and the Atlantic, Gulf & West India Transit rail- 
roads, all contribute to its prosperity. 

It has grown to its present magnitude almost entirely 
since the war. In 1865 it had a population of only 1,800, 
and to-day it numbers within its corporate limits nearly 
12,000 souls. Much of this growth has occurred even within 
the past five years, and a majority of the best residences and 
business blocks have a new and fresh look about them that 
contributes largely to the beauty and attractiveness of the 
place. Nearly every yard in the city is ornamented with 
rich tropical and semi-tropical shrubs and plants. Orange 
trees are used for shade-trees in door-yards and along the 
sidewalks in front. In many places you will see rows of these 

171 



1*72 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

trees along either side of the street, laden with their rich, 
golden fruit, tempting you to partake thereof as freely as you 
would drink water from the public fountain. 

The streets are macadamized, so to speak, with oyster 
shells, reminding one of the vast quantities of this delicious 
bivalve that are annually taken from the adjacent waters. 

The city is illuminated with gas, and water-works are now 
in process of construction. She has seventeen churches and 
four schoolhouses, nearly all built of brick. 

The manufacture of lumber is carried on extensively here. 
There are six large mills in operation, some of them cutting 
as high as 125,000 feet of lumber per day. 

There are eight large hotels, several of which are first-class 
in every particular. The principal business streets present a 
scene of energy and activity not excelled in any city of this 
size in the country. Nearly all the business houses are built 
of brick and stone, and are furnished with all the modern 
improvements in architecture. The stocks of goods display 
taste and judgment in the merchants, and many of the houses 
do a very large business. 

Having taken a hasty look about town, I boarded the 
good steamer ''Pastime," and at ten o'clock a.m. of the i6th, 
we steamed out upon the broad and placid bosom of this, one 
of the most sublimely beautiful streams in the world. It 
flows from the mysterious everglades, in the southern portion 
of the state, some of its tributaries rising near the famous 
Lake Okeechobee, vast swamps and morasses are drained by 
these tributaries, imparting to the water of the St. John's a rich 
chocolate color. It is one of the few large rivers in the world 
that flow from south to north. From Jacksonville to Palatka, 
a distance of seventy-five miles, it has an average width of 
two to four miles, giving it the appearance of a vast lake more 
than of a river. Above Palatka it narrows rapidly to a 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 173 

width of one to two hundred yards and becomes exceeding 
crooked. 

The first object of interest after leaving Jacksonville is at 
Mandarin, twelve miles above, where we were favored with a 
view of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's winter residence. Her 
house is surrounded by a beautiful orange grove and she is 
willing to present every northern visitor to Mandarin with an 
orange, {/"the visitor happens to have a dime about his clothes. 

Two miles farther up, Orange Park is situated. A large 
amount of money has been expended here by the owners of 
the tract of land on which the town is situated, in improving 
and beautifying it, and as a result a most beautiful -picture is 
presented to the eye of the visitor. Hibernia, Magnolia, 
Green Cove Springs and Picolata are passed in succession. 
They are all pleasant little villages, but offer very little of real 
interest beyond their abundant and prolific orange groves. 
Next comes Palatka, which we reach about dark and where 
the steamer very wisely stops over night in order to allow the 
tourists to make the entire trip by daylight. 

This is an old town. It was an important military post 
during the Seminole war. It has eleven hundred inhabitants 
and is a very handsome town. Game is abundant in this 
vicinity. Deer are killed within five miles of Palatka all 
through the winter, and turkeys are found by going a few miles 
farther. Quail are abundant and alligators are numerous in 
the river and adjacent lakes and bayous. 

On the morning of the 17th the " Pastime" turned back 
down the river and we took the " Georgea " for the completion 
of the trip. At seven o'clock a.m. we were underway. Capt. 
Schoonmaker, master of the ^' Georgea," informed us that we 
would find plenty of game from this point up, so we brought 
out our guns — Dr. W. his shot-gun and I my rifle. We took 
up our positions on the quarter-deck ready for business. 



174 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

We had gone but a few miles when the ladies, who occu- 
pied seats in the pilot-house, shouted, '^' There's an alligator ! " 
We looked in the direction indicated and there, sure enough, 
was one of the gigantic saurians lazily swimming across the 
river, some two hundred yards ahead of the boat. The 
captain said they were wild and that he would not let us come 
much closer, so I opened fire on him and in quick succession 
landed three bullets in such close proximity to his eyes that 
he at once sank out of sight. 

A few miles farther up we sighted another lying on a log 
near the shore about a hundred and fifty yards away. I 
adjusted my sights to the distance as nearly as I could esti- 
mate it, but distance on the water is very deceptive, and my 
first ball fell a few feet short of him. I elevated a point and 
the second went a few inches over. I then lowered half a 
point, and the third went through him just behind the shoul- 
der. Then there was a sport ! He gave us such a gymnastic 
exhibition as only a wounded 'gator can give. He first tried 
to stand on his head, then he tried to stand on his tail. Then 
apparently tried to turn himself wrong side out. Finally, 
recovering temporarily from the shock, he reached the water, 
and was lost to our sight forever. 

It is a well-known fact that the only place to shoot a 
'gator and make him lie perfectly still is in the head, but the 
distance was so great and the speed of the boat so rapid that 
I could not choose so small a target. If hit in the body he 
will invariably find the bottom of the deepest water within 
half a mile before he dies. 

If the explosive bullet be used, however, he may be 
stopped suddenly if hit almost anywhere, and many sports- 
men use this effective missile when hunting them. Captain 
Schoonmaker gave us some amusing accounts of shots he had 
witnessed from his boat, when the explosive balls were used. 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. l75 

In one instance he said a passenger was shooting a Sharp's 
rifle and using the exposive ball. He hit a very large 'gator 
just back of the ear, and literally lifted the whole top of his 
head off. In other instances he hit them in various parts of 
the body, and, as he forcibly described it, "busted them 
wide open." 

During the remainder of the day we had fine sport shoot- 
ing blue herons, white .egrets, blue and white ibises, ducks, 
cormorants, coot, etc., but owing to the motion of the boat 
(she made about fifteen miles an hour) I made rather a poor 
score with the rifle. The Doctor with his shot-gun did much 
better. Game is very abundant all along the river. We were 
told by numerous settlers at the various landings above 
Palatka, and with such candor and earnestness that we were 
compelled to credit the reports, that the deer actually destroy 
the crops of corn and '' garden truck " to such an extent that 
the farmers have to hang up white flags and other conspicuous 
objects in their fields to frighten them away. In some cases 
they even poison them to save their produce. Most of this 
damage is of course done at night, but occasionally they come 
into the fields in daylight. They say no fence will turn a 
deer ; that he will go over a ten-rail fence as easily as over a 
log. Venison is cheaper all along the river than beef, and 
there are plenty of " crackers" (native Floridians) who will 
contract to furnish you any number of deer per week and ful- 
fill their contract to the letter. 

If any sportsman wishes to engage in deer hunting all he 
has to do is to go to Welaka, Norwalk, Mount Royal, 
Volusia, Blue Springs, or, in fact, almost any of the small 
landings above Palatka and employ a " cracker " at a dollar 
a day, who will put him on a run-way and drive the deer to 
him until his appetite for this kind of sport is appeased. 
Fire-hunting is the most popular method with the natives, 



176 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

and the one b / which they take most of their venison for 
mar et. 

About noon on the 17th, we reached Lake George, a 
beautiful sheet of water through which the river flov\^s. It is 
twelve miles wide and eighteen miles long. There is an 
island in the south end of the lake covering eighteen hundred 
acres, upon which is one of the oldest orange groves in the 
state. It was planted in 1824. Most of the original trees 
are still vigorous and healthy, and are bearing full crops of 
fruit every year. There is a house on the island that was 
built by John C. Calhoun in about 1835. 

About twenty miles above Lake George we find the village 
of Manhattan, where William Astor has a large orange grove 
and from whence a railroad is being built across the country 
to Lake Eustace, the head of navigation of the Oclawaha 
river. At six o'clock p.m. we reached Lake Monroe, two 
hundred and twenty-eight miles above Jacksonville, and the 
head of navigation of the Saint John's river for large vessels. 
Small ones have, however, ascended two hundred and 
seventy -five miles above here. 

We staid overnight at San ford, a thriving town on the 
south shore of the lake, and at six o'clock the next morning 
we again boarded the '' Georgea " to return to Jacksonville. 
A brisk ^'norther" was blowing this morning, accompanied 
by a cold, driving rain that rendered the cabin far more 
comfortable than the open deck, so we oiled our guns and 
laid them away. But time did not drag, for the captain 
entertained us with many interesting stories of life on the St. 
John's. He says he frequently has as many as twenty-five 
sportsmen on board at once, armed with shot-guns, rifles, 
revolvers, etc., and that they make sad havoc among the 
water-fowls, 'gators, etc. That if a bird escapes the fusilade 
that is opened on him the moment he appears within range, 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. Ill 

it can be regarded as only a miracle. The 'gators, he told 
us, fare no better, and hundreds of each are killed every 
winter, and still there is no perceptible decrease in their 
number. Many of the latter are wounded who speedily 
recover. He thinks there is not an alligator on the river 
five years old but carries twenty to thirty pounds of lead in 
his carcass, and he notices that it is very difficult for some of 
them to swim with even their noses above water, on account 
of the extra ballast they carry. He told us of one old 
saurian who lives in and around Lake George, who is nearly 
thirty feet long, whose back is four feet broad, whose head is 
as large as a flour barrel, and who when he " bellows," wakes 
all the natives for miles around. He says he frequently takes 
in a hog, deer, deerhound or other animal as he attempts to 
swim across the river, and makes a meal off him. 

Under the influence of these stories and other pastimes 
the time fled rapidly, until at six p.m. we again reached 
Palatka and tied up for the night. Early the next morning 
we resumed the voyage. From here we had as a fellow pas- 
senger the Reverend Dr. Spalding, of Atlanta, Ga., who is 
an enthusiastic fisherman. He gave us a most humorous 
account of an experience he had while fishing in Mobile Bay 
last summer. He and a friend were fishing for sea trout with 
excellent success but were greatly annoyed by a large fish that 
kept breaking their hooks. They procured larger hooks and 
he broke those. They got the largest the tackle dealer had 
and he broke those with equal facility. Then they went to a 
blacksmith, and had him make some hooks of quarter-inch 
steel wire. These were too much for him, but he now got 
away by cutting the line. Then they put on copper wires 
for leaders and used a small-sized clothes line for the main 
line, baiting with a large-sized mullet cut in two. This time 
the Doctor said he fastened him sure and no mistake. He 
12 



178 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

was afraid to risk his strength to hold Mr. Fish so he took a 
hitch around a convenient pile to let him play. When 
slightly tamed the Doctor and his friend doubled on the line 
and hauled in their prize, hand over hand. When landed he 
proved to be an alligator gar six feet long, and weighing a 
hundred and sixty pounds. The Doctor said that thereafter, 
whenever he lost a hook he at once baited his iron-clad tackle 
with a large mullet, and brought the intruder to speedy 
justice. By the time the Doctor had finished his story we 
were at Focoi, where we stopped off and took the train on 
the St. John's railway, of Florida, for St. Augustine, where 
we arrived an hour later. 

This is the oldest city in the United States, and a brief 
description of it here may prove of interest to those who have 
never strolled through its dark, narrow streets and viewed its 
antique, strange looking walls. It is bounded on the north 
by the mainland, and on the east by the North river, the 
harbor entrance and the Mantanzas river, with Anastasia 
island forming the breakwater, and on the south and west by 
the St. Sebastian river. The city is built upon the point that 
was occupied by Menendez, who gave it the name of St. 
Augustine, as he arrived there on the day dedicated to that 
saint. 

Its present population is about 2,200. It has four churches, 
one of which was built in 1830 and another in 1832. There 
are four first-class ho'tels here and several second-class. There 
are four principal streets, extending the entire length of the 
city. These are named Tolomato, St. George, Charlotte and 
Bay. Other and less important streets are called Spanish, 
Marine, Orange, Redout, Cuna, Hipolata, Treasury, King, 
Artillery, Green, Bravois, Bridge and St. Francis. These 
vary in width from twelve to thirty feet. The old Spanish 
residences are built of coquina, a species of shell-rock, that is 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 119 

quarried on Anastasia island. Many of them have balconies, 
or, as they are called here, galleries, all along their second 
stories, which overhang the narrow streets and give to the 
city a most quaint and antique appearance. There are, how- 
ever, many modern style buildings, both residence and 
business houses, some of the former having large and elegant 
grounds. One of the most interesting points in the city, and 
the one first visited by every tourist, is old Fort Marion. It 
stands at the northeast end of the town, and commands the 
inlet from the sea. It is also built of coquina, and is in an 
excellent state of preservation. It was commenced in 1520, 
and completed in 1756. Its first name was ''San Juan de 
Pinos," which was afterward changed to " San Marco," and 
upon the change of flags in 182 1, it was given its present 
name. It covers one acre of ground, and has accommoda- 
tion for one thousand men and one hundred guns. Over the 
entrance to the fort is the Spanish coat-of-arms surmounted 
by a globe and cross, while suspended beneath is a lamb. 
From the interior of the hollow square formed by the walls 
are entrances to a number of dungeons, in which it is sup- 
posed the Spanish authorities confined their prisoners. In 
one of these the skeletons of two human beings were 
discovered in 1846, one of which is now in the Smithsonian 
Institution in Washington, together with the iron cage in 
which it was enclosed when found. The fort is twenty-one 
feet high. There are bastioned angles at each of the four 
corners, which are surmounted with sentry-boxes and lookout 
towers. The moat or ditch surrounding the fort is forty feet 
wide and ten feet deep. It was flooded from the St. Sebastian 
river. There are inner and outer barriers, the barbican, 
drawbridge, portcullis, wicket and all the appliances of the 
European castles of the middle ages. 

During the Seminole war many prisoners were confined 



180 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

here, among whom were Osceola and Coacoochee, noted 
chiefs. It was frequently used during the early history of the 
state as a place of refuge for the citizens of the town and 
vicinity in time of Indian outbreaks. 

Another of the ancient landmarks is the Sea Wall, which 
was originally built by the Spaniards in 1690, and rebuilt by 
the United States government in 1837. It is also built of 
coquina, with a coping of granite four feet wide and about 
eight inches thick. 

The Catholic cathedral was erected in 1 793, and is still in 
a tolerable state of preservation inside, though the hand of 
time has dealt roughly with the exterior. It is surmounted by 
a quaint Moorish belfry, with four bells set in separate niches, 
which, together with the clock, form a complete cross. One 
of the bells bears date 1682, and is supposed to have been 
taken from the ruins of a church which previously stood on 
St. George street. At the north end of the city stands the 
city gate, another very interesting relic of past ages. It has 
recently been repaired, but portions of it still remain as 
originally left by the old Spanish masons hundreds of years 
ago. It is the only remaining relic of a wall supposed to 
have surrounded the city in its early days. It is a most im- 
posing and interesting structure — is ornamented with lofty 
towers, loop-holes and sentry-boxes, all well preserved. The 
" Plaza de la Constitution," is a small park situated in the 
center of the town, with seats, walks, shade-trees, etc., simi- 
lar to those of our modern parks. In one end of the square 
stands the monument erected in 181 2, in commemoration of 
the Spanish Liberal Constitution. It bears an inscription in 
Spanish, a translation of which is as follows : 

" Just before the session of Florida to the United States, 
the king of Spain granted a liberal charter to the citizens of 
St. Augustine and of Florida, and this monument is a memo- 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 181 

rial erected by the Spanish citizens of St. Augustine. The 
date of this constitution was the 17th of October, 1812." 

In the other end stands the monument to the Confederate 
dead, erected in 1866. 

St. Augustine will for years to come be to the student of 
antiquity one of the most interesting places on the continent. 
It is, moreover, a popular resort for invalids, tourists and 
pleasure-seekers of all classes, and it is estimated that during 
the winter of 1878-9 it was visited by twelve thousand stran- 
gers. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 

OFF FOR SARASOTA BAY — A ROYAL KINGFISH LANDED ON DECK — A 
WHITE CLOTH BAIT — A HERON ROOKERY — MR. MOORE A REAL 
DEER-SLAYER — VARIETIES OF FISH — TAMPA — DR. J. P. WALL — FIVE 
HUNDRED AND FIFTY ACRES OF ORANGE TREES — A GRAND CHANCE 
FOR SETTLERS — 8,000,000 ORANGES A YEAR — A GRAND RESORT FOR 
INVALIDS. 

" Haul in that bow line ! " '^ Let go that stern line! " 
''All ready, Pilot, stand out — head 'sou' -west' by west!" 

Such were the commands given by Captain Jackson, of 
the good steamship "Valley City," to his subordinates, on 
Sunday afternoon, November 23d, as we let go the wharf at 
Cedar Key and which fell like sweet music upon our anxious 
ears, for we were now embarked for a voyage upon the grand 
old Gulf of Mexico. 

From my boyhood I have read and heard, with increas- 
ing interest, of this great body of water which sits majes- 
tically enthroned at the southern end of our continent, 
between the states of Florida and Texa^, and backed on the 
north by Louisiana; but never until to-day have I been per- 
mitted to view it in its supreme beauty, face to face. 

Our destination is Sarasota Bay, one hundred and fifty 
miles south of Cedar Key, and we have heard so much of the 
vast resources of that locality in the way of tropical fruits, 
rich tropical scenery, balmy atmosphere, and, above all, in 
fish and game, that our hearts bound with gratitude at the 
thought that we are now on the homeward stretch toward it. 
However, time does not drag by any means, for a voyage on 

182 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 18S 

the Gulf must always have its charms, and when accompanied 
by a companion possessing so many of the attributes of a 
perfect womanhood as does my better-half, who accompanies 
me on this trip, it is rendered doubly delightful. Then to 
add to the pleasures of the trip still more we soon make the 
acquaintance of Captain Jackson and Purser Swingley, of the 
** Valley City," whom we find to be gentlemen in the highest 
sense of that term. They improve every opportunity to con- 
tribute to the comfort of their passengers, and are ever ready 
to give any desired information regarding points of interest 
along the coast. 

A few miles out of port, as we sat upon the forecastle, 
enjoying the beautiful scenery before us and chatting pleas- 
antly with the captain, the steward of the vessel came and 
called us to the quarter-deck to see a kingfish he had caught. 
We responded with alacrity, and were rewarded with a view 
of a magnificent specimen of this noble fish which he had 
just landed on deck. He was twenty-eight inches long and 
weighed thirteen pounds. He is appropriately named, for 
he is certainly the king of the finny tribe. He bears some 
resemblance, in general shape, to the Northern lake trout, but 
has a slimmer and handsomer head. His back is of a rich, 
dark-green tint, changing to a lighter shade along the sides, 
while the belly is nearly white. The scales are very small. 
The flesh is fine in texture and of a delicious flavor. It 
grows to a great size, frequently measuring four feet in length, 
and weighing thirty to forty pounds. They are frequently 
caught by trolling from these gulf steamers with one hundred 
to two hundred feet of line. No bait or even spoon is used. 
They are attracted simply by a piece of white cloth tied on 
the hook. They are very gamy when hooked and make a 
most obstinate fight, frequently jumping to a height of ten 
feet above the water. 



184 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

We returned to the forecastle and spent the remainder of 
the afternoon pleasantly. We retired early at night in order 
to rise early and enjoy that novel and beautiful sight, a sun- 
rise on the water. At one o'clock a.m. we reached Egmont 
Light, which stands upon a small island called Egmont Key. 
Here the steamer tied up until day, when the captain sent the 
steward to call us and say that he would give us an hour to 
take a walk upon the beach. 

We gladly availed ourselves of the opportunity, and after 
partaking of a cup of hot coffee served in our stateroom, hur- 
ried out and beheld a most lovely picture. Egmont Key is a 
picturesque little isle half a mile wide and one and a half miles 
long. The government lighthouse and light-keeper's residence 
are handsome and substantial structures. W^e found Mr. 
Moore, the light-keeper, an intelligent, kind-hearted and hos- 
pitable gentleman. He gave us some interesting information 
concerning this island and others in the vicinity. He says 
there is a heron rockery on the island only half a mile from 
his house where the birds annually build their nests and rear 
their young. Last year there were five hundred nests there. 
He estimates that each nest produced on an average five birds, 
making the total crop two thousand five hundred. He con- 
siders them his pets, and will not allow them to be shot or dis- 
turbed in any way. 

Mullett Key, two miles northeast, is the home of a large 
herd of deer, and Mr. Moore goes over there and kills one at 
any time when he wishes some fresh venison. Mr. Moore is 
an enthusiastic sportsman, by the way, and I am informed 
that he has killed one hundred and ninety-three deer in the 
past two years. 

During our walk around the island we found many won- 
ders of the deep in the way of shells, fishes, etc. A cold 

norther had prevailed for two days previously, and many of 

4- 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 185 

the more delicate fish having approached too near the beach 
in quest of food, were paralyzed by the cold air and swept 
ashore by the surf. Among the curious specimens we picked 
up, I note the cow-fish, sea-hotse, rock-fish, dog-fish, lamper- 
eel, three varieties of the toad-fish, etc. We also collected 
many specimens, shells, coral, sea-moss and sponges. 

The time for our departure having now arrived, we re- 
luctantly returned to the steamer. On our departure, Mr. 
Moore gave us a pressing invitation to visit him on our re- 
turn and spend several days on the island as his guests. We 
sincerely hope to be able to accept, for it is a most fasci- 
nating place, and we feel confident that we could spend a few 
days here both pleasantly and profitably. 

Five miles up the bay we met the steamer '' Lizzie Hen- 
derson," of the same line. The two steamers lashed to- 
gether when we transferred to her our Key West passengers, 
mail and freight, after which she sailed for that port and 
we for Tampa, where we arrived at three o'clock that after- 
noon. 

This is a pleasant little city of i,8oo inhabitants, situated 
at the head of Tampa Bay and mouth of the Hillsborough 
river. It is the county seat of Hillsborough county, and is 
one of the most enterprising towns of its size in the state. It 
is the headquarters of the Tampa Steamship Company, who 
run a line of steamers from here to Cedar Key, one from 
Cedar Key to Key West, and one from New Orleans to 
Havana via Cedar Key, all carrying the United States mails. 
During the cattle-shipping season the Cedar Key and Key 
West line also runs to Havana. The cattle interest is a very 
important one to this portion of Florida. Over 1,500 head 
were shipped from this point alone during the past summer, 
besides large numbers from other points a few miles south of 
here. There are thousands of acres of wild lands lying adja- 



186 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

cent to the coast, which furnish rich pasturage for cattle 
winter and summer. They are never fed or cared for at any 
time. The owner simply turns his young cattle or breeders 
into the woods with his brand on them, and once a year 
thereafter — generally in May or June — starts out with a force 
of men on horseback, brands the calves, collects and corralls 
the fat cattle for shipment. Several stock-raisers on this 
coast have from 500 to 1,000 head of cattle in the woods all 
the time. Havana is their principal market, a few head only 
being shipped to Key West each year. Next in importance 
to cattle growing comes the orange trade. 

Through the courtesy of Dr. J. P. Wall, editor of the 
Sunland Tribune, I took a pleasant ride in company with 
him through the country adjacent to the village, and was 
thereby given an idea of the extent and number of its orange 
groves. We went east on Florida avenue, one of the principal 
roads leading into the country, a distance of two miles, 
returned to within a mile of town where we entered Michigan 
avenue, upon which we went south to Nebraska avenue. We 
then rode east again three miles and returned to town. In 
riding over these few miles we saw about five hundred and 
fifty acres of orange trees. Many of these are young and 
have not yet come into bearing, while many others are 
annually yielding large crops of fruit. The majority of the 
groves contain ten acres each, though others are much larger, 
some reaching fifty or more acres. Each grove has with it a 
neat cottage house, garden, outbuildings, and a few lemon, 
lime, banana and other fruit-trees. New groves are being 
planted each year, where the year before stood the tall pine- 
trees, bidding defiance to the aggressive hand of the sturdy 
woodman, and it is interesting to contemplate what a vast city 
will in twenty years from to-day stretch away back from the 
beach of Tampa bay, with ten to twenty acres in each lot, 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 187 

with princely residences, broad averwies and rich orange 
groves to the portion of each resident. 

Such is the certain future of this city, for new settlers are 
coming in each year, hailing from every state in the Union, 
and each bringing nerve, energy and money to the task. 
There are several families here from Maine, others from Ne- 
braska, Illinois, Kentucky, etc. Nearly all arc prospering 
and writing to their friends to come and join them. As an 
instance of what may be accomplished here : one man took a 
homestead of one hundred and sixty acres in the midst of a 
pine forest a few years ago, built a neat cottage house, cleared 
off acre after acre, and planted each with orange trees. He 
has recently been offered $6,000 cash for his house and six 
acres of land adjacent. 

Over six million oranges were shipped from this point last 
year, and the indications are that nearly eight millions will 
be shipped the present year. Notwithstanding the success 
these people have achieved, I would not advise any one 
to come to Florida and engage in orange culture until he has 
counted well the cost. Many have tried it and failed — some 
for want of energy and determination, some for want of 
proper knowledge of the business and others for lack of 
means to prosecute it to a successful issue, A cash capital 
of at least two thousand dollars is absolutely necessary to 
start on if a ten-acre grove is to be made. More than this 
sum will be needed, but it can be accomplished for this if 
proper economy be practiced. Then a great deal of hard 
work will be required. Help can be employed to do this if 
the settler has sufficient means ; if not he must do it himself. 
Some people may not like the climate — the long summers or 
the dry, warm winters. When these features are considered 
I would say to any one wishing to engage in orange growing, 
w.io fmds himself possessed of the above-mentioned requi- 



188 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

sites, and who wishes to live in a climate of perpetual 
summer, go at once to Tampa, or at least to the Gulf coast. 
I consider it far superior to the eastern coast or the St. John's 
River district, after having studied both portions of the state 
impartially. 

As a resort for invalids, I consider the Gulf coast also far 
superior to the eastern. The Gulf winds are much milder 
and more temperate and the changes of temperature not 
nearly so sudden or radical. I would, therefore, most emphati- 
cally advise all who suffer from pulmonary diseases to visit 
the Gulf coast in preference to any other portion of the stale. 

What Tampa most needs is a government appropriation 
for the improvement of her harbor. There is a bar across the 
bay near the mouth of the river that prevents vessels of any 
size from reaching the city wharf. They have to anchor 
three miles out and transfer freight and passengers in small 
boats. Colonel J. L. Meigs, under the direction of the 
Bureau of Navigation, recently surveyed a channel across 
this bar, and estimated the cost of cutting it to such a depth 
as to give eleven feet of water at low tide, at ^80,000. In 
view of the importance of the improvement to gulf naviga- 
tion, Congress should by all means make the appropriation. 

A railroad has been in course of construction for several 
years past from Gainesville, a station on the Transit railroad, 
to Tampa, a distance of one hundred and fifty miles ; but as 
only a small amount. of work has been done each year, the 
people are greatly dissatisfied with the management and an 
effort will probably be made to annul the charter at the next 
session of the legislature and give the right to some other 
company who will build the road without delay. It is greatly 
needed by the section of country through which it is to pass, 
and will prove of inestimable benefit to Tampa, when com- 
pleted. 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 189 

This point offers many attractions to sportsmen. Excel- 
lent fishing may be had in the mouth of the river and in the 
bay. Sea-trout, red snappers, mangrove snappers, and 
sheepshead are the varieties usually caught. Good duck and 
bay-bird shooting may be had near town, and by going 
fifteen to twenty miles into the country deer and turkeys may 
be found in liberal numbers. Judge Mitchell, who is an 
enthusiastic sportsman, is ever ready to give all desired 
information regarding the best shooting and fishing grounds. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

SNEAD'S ISLAND. 

GREAT SCHOOLS OF MULLET — SOLID ACRES OF FISH — SNEAD'S ISLAND A 
GRAND FISHERY — "THERE'S MILLIONS IN IT!" — WE " SMOLE " 
AUDIBLY — ON BOARD THE "SKY LARK " — THE MANGROVE — 
MR. WEBB — A PARADISE FOR BOTANISTS — CENTURY PLANTS IN 
BLOOM — FISHING — MACKEREL SIXTEEN INCHES LONG, WEIGHING 
THREE POUNDS. 

We enjoyed a pleasant sail down Tampa Bay on the 
morning of November 27th, on board the steamer '* Valley 
City." The most interesting incident of the trip was the 
great schools of mullet we saw on the shoals off Snead's Island, 
near the mouth of Manatee river. Without any exaggeration 
there were solid acres of them feeding on these shoals, and 
they were as close together as they could possibly swim. At 
some points they were in such shallow water that their back 
fins and the upper rays of their tails were out of the water. 
As they feed here, a seine three hundred feet long, skillfully 
handled, would catch, at a low estimate, ten to twenty barrels 
of fish at every haul, and they were not here in unusual 
numbers at this time, either. Captain Jackson informed me 
that it is no unusual thing to see twice or thrice the number 
at this point, that we saw on this trip. He says he frequently 
finds the water literally black with them, for a distance of two 
or three miles along this beach. 

This story may sound decidedly '' fishy," but every word 
of it can be corroborated by a dozen people who reside in the 
vicinity, and by any of the officers of the Tampa Steamship 
Company. 

190 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 191' 

I am astonished that some one has not established a com- 
mercial fishery on this island, long ago. Thousands of barrels 
of this most delicious fish could be packed here every winter, 
at a merely nominal expense, and they always find a ready 
market and command a fair price in the northern and eastern 
cities. Some enterprising party, with a taste for such a 
pursuit, should secure this opportunity without delay. In the 
language of Mulberry Sellers, ''There's millions in it." 

Soon after leaving Snead's Island we entered the mouth 
of the Manatee river, up which we made a run of eight miles, 
when we arrived at the village of Manatee, a lively little town 
of some two or three hundred inhabitants. We stopped over 
night at the Turner House, a comfortable hotel, and early in 
the morning Captain Harlee, a merchant of the place, sent his 
team to take us to Mr. Whitaker's plantation, on Sarasota Bay, 
twelve miles below. 

The road runs through a belt of pine-woods, dotted thickly 
with ponds, covering from one to twenty acres each, the 
margins thickly grown with saw-grass, and in the center a 
pool of clear water. We came upon the first of these ponds, 
within half a mile of town, and saw in it a dozen or more of 
the large water birds which are so "numerous in this state. I 
brought out my rifle and bagged a beautiful white ibis. A mile 
farther on we came to another pond. A large white egret sat 
near the center of it, about two hundred and fifty yards away. 
I drew a bead on him, let go, and he immediately sat down. 

The driver, a good-natured negro, got out, rolled up his 
pants, and waded in to get the game. The bird proved to be 
only winged, and showed fight. He struck out vigorously 
several times, but the plucky negro finally secured him, took 
him by the head and started for shore with him. Reader, you 
would have smiled to see that darky teaching that bird to 
follow. It was a most ridiculous sight. We *' smole " 



192 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

audibly The bird objected to that mode of travel at first, 
but soon succumbed to the inevitable and followed as obe- 
diently as Mary's little lamb is said to have done. He was a 
beautiful specimen of the species, and measured five feet nine 
inches from tip to tip of wings^ and four feet seven inches in 
height. 

We passed a dozen or more of these ponds during the day, 
and at each of them I got a shot, making a very handsome 
bag, considering that I was 'Agoing somewhere " and not on a 
regular hunt. 

We arrived at Mr. Whitaker's house about noon, and 
remained until the next morning. Mr. Whitaker is one of 
the oldest settlers on the Gulf coast, having first settled here 
in 1844. He has a large comfortable house, well finished and 
furnished, a large orange grove, and is extensively engaged in 
cattle raising. He has over seven hundred head on the range 
and sells from two to three hundred head each year. In the 
evening I engaged Maurice Lancaster, a boy fifteen years old, 
son of Mr. Israel Lancaster, who lives five miles below, to 
take us in his sail boat to Mr. Webb's plantation, twelve 
miles farther down the coast. Accordingly, early on Friday 
morning the " Sky Lark," with Captain Maurice at the helm, 
landed at Whitaker's beach. We hurriedly loaded our 
trunks, other luggage and ourselves into the vessel, spread 
sail and stood out down the bay under a fair wind and with 
buoyant hearts, for we were now on that famous portion of 
the coast of which we had heard so much, from which we 
anticipated such rich sport, and in which, as the sequel will 
show, we were not to be disappointed. 

Whenever we pass over shoals where the water is less than 
six or eight feet deep, we see myriads of beautiful fish of 
various kinds, among which are mangrove snappers, red-fish, 
sheepshead, mullet, drum-fish, grunters and many others. 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 193 

Occasionally some of the great monsters of the deep show 
themselves to our eager eyes. A ray-fish as large as the head 
of a hogshead, and weighing probably a hundred pounds, is 
aroused from its bed in the sand by the near approach of our 
boat and swims rapidly away, dragging after it a tail resem- 
bling in form a whiplash. This tail is only an inch and a half 
in diameter at the base and is from three to four feet long. 

Farther on a monster shark, seven or eight feet long, 
swims boldly alongside of our boat, apparently curious to 
know who it is that thus invades his domain. If we had had 
a harpoon on board we could have satisfied his curiosity in a 
way he would not have liked. 

Five miles below Mr. Whitaker's, Maurice landed at his 
father's house to get his blanket and some provisions for 
camping, thinking it possible we might be delayed and have 
to camp out over night. 

Two miles below this point we passed Captain Young's 
boat-house. He builds small yachts, sloops and schooners 
and sells them to settlers along the coast. About noon we 
entered the mangrove thickets, which reach clear across the 
bay at this point, with only narrow passes winding through 
them, and which at low tide are very difficult to navigate, 
even with small skiffs. But fortunately we entered them at 
high tide, and this, together with the fact that Captain Mau- 
rice knows every foot of the passes and handles a pole 
extremely well, enabled us to go through them with flying 
colors. 

This mangrove is a strange shrub. It grows only in or 
near salt water. The stem grows up to a height of one to two 
feet when a few limbs branch out ; a few inches farther up two 
or three roots will put out and seek the earth. Farther up 
more limbs shoot out, still farther up more roots, and so on 
until limbs, roots and main stems are mixed up in one almost 
13 



194 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

indistinguishable mass. Where it stands thickly upon the 
ground it forms a jungle that even a dog can scarcely pene- 
trate. After passing these mangrove thickets we had plain 
sailing for awhile. Just below them we passed some long 
sand-bars, upon which were feeding great flocks of Spanish 
curlews, both straight-bill and sickle-bill, millet, white- 
breasted plover, and other varieties of bay birds. 

A good wing shot could enjoy rare sport here, but I am 
in search of larger game and will not trouble these birds. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon we came upon a 
series of oyster bars which extends clear across the bay and 
nearly two miles up and down it. The tide had gone out by 
this time and we had some very had work poling and occa- 
sionally wading, dragging and lifting our boat over the worst 
portions of the bars. Perseverance, however, won the battle 
and we succeeded in getting over. 

We arrived at Mr. Webb's house just as night set in, and 
were given a most cordial greeting, although we were entire 
strangers to the family. Such kind and hospitable treatment 
as we received, and such a clean, wholesome, palatable sup- 
per as we were treated to that night, made us glad in our 
hearts that we had had the good fortune to be directed to and 
finally to reach the home of these kind-hearted people. 
They are natives of Utica, New York, where Mr. John G. 
Webb, the head of the family, was engaged in the drug busi- 
ness for many years. They came here twelve years ago. 
Mr. Webb owns a large tract of land and has a large, com- 
fortable farm-house and ample outbuildings. He has chosen 
for his residence one of the most romantic and beautiful 
spots in the state, or, for that matter, in any state. It is a nar- 
row point of land ranging from one to two hundred yards 
wide and extending into the bay nearly a quarter of a 
mile. It contains about five acres of land. There is 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 195 

a high shell mound near the center of the tract, and 
on this mound Mr. Webb's house stands. The point is cov- 
ered with native and cultivated shrubs, plants, etc. Shades 
of Agassiz, what a paradise for a botanist ! Within the space 
of this five acres may be found West India birch, papaya, two 
varieties of palmetto, the date palm, red cedar, live oak, 
American aloe or century plant, yucca or Spanish bayonet, 
bird pepper, winterberry, Spanish stoppor, mimosa, sea bean, 
iponacea, madeira vine, several species of convolvulus, several 
of euphorbiaca, two of cactus, mershalline, verbesina, verno- 
nia, sea myrtle, grape vine and ivy of several varieties, big- 
nonia, soap wort, sugar berry, prickly ash, sea-ash, matich 
plum, crow berry, Indian fig, or India rubber tree, black, red 
and white mangrove, button wood, sea grape, and many 
others. Several of the century plants have bloomed since 
Mr. Webb has lived here. In some instances the stock 
bearing the flower has grown to a height of thirty feet. In 
a few days after blooming, the plant dies. 

The windows on the north and south sides of the house 
command a beautiful view of the bay, and from those in the 
west end you may look away across Sarasota Key and miles ^ 
out upon the Gulf. Steamers and sail vessels may be seen 
almost any hour in the day. We had scarcely entered the 
house when Mr. Webb commenced the task of destroying my 
night's rest by telling me that the deer were eating up the 
sweet-potato vines at the homes of his two sons-in-law, only a 
mile from here in opposite directions, and that they would be 
very glad to have them killed off; that sand-hill cranes, white 
egrets, ibises, etc., were plentiful around the ponds from one 
to three miles from his house ; that on South Creek, three 
miles away, alligators are numerous ; that his two sons who 
are now away from home, but will return in a day or two, are 
enthusiastic and successful sportsmen, and that they will be 



196 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

glad to pilot me to all the best shooting and fishing grounds 
in the neighborhood ; that they Avill go with me fire-hunting 
and fire-fishing at night, and many other things equally in- 
jurious to the mental equilibrium of so enthusiastic a devotee 
of the rod and gun as myself. We spent the evening 
discussing these and other interesting topics, until eleven 
o'clock, when we retired for the night. I dreamed all night 
of hunting deer and fishing, and many were the noble speci- 
mens of the antlered and finny tribe that fell victims to my 
prowess that night. 

I arose at day light the next morning and called Captain 
Lancaster on deck. He responded promptly and accepted 
my invitation to remain with me and spend a day or two 
fishing. We rigged our tackle and after a square breakfast 
hastily eaten, boarded the '^Sky Lark," and sailed across the 
bay into Little Sarasota Pass, for our first day's fishing. As 
soon as we entered the Pass I attached an artificial minnow 
to my line and cast out for a troll. I had scarcely reeled out 
half of my two hundred and fifty feet of line, when whiz-z-z ! 
it went across the pass and back to the other side in less time 
than it takes to tell it. Maurice luffed up and ran in to shore. 
I was using light tackle, and finding that I had a game fish to 
deal with, I was compelled to play him a few minutes before 
attempting to land him. I soon wore him out sufficiently to 
be able to bring him aboard, when I found him to be a hand- 
some specimen of the Cavalli, locally known as the jack-fish. 
He weighed four pounds, and was seventeen inches long. 
This fish closely resembles the pompano, both in outward 
appearance and flavor. He is one of the most delicious 
fish in the Gulf waters, is frequently served at hotels and 
restaurants in the southern cities under the name of pompano, 
and none but an experienced palate can detect the difference. 
There is a streak of dark meat along either side of the back- 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 197 

bone that is especially rich and oily, and somewhat resembles 
the flavor of the sardine, as we get it, dressed in oil. 

After contemplating with pride, for a few minutes, this, 
my first prize, we pushed off and I cast again. We had gone 
but a few yards when the alarm in my reel notified me that I 
had some more business to attend to. I landed this catch 
with as little delay as possible, and was surprised and delighted 
to find that I had a fine Spanish mackerel sixteen inches long 
and weighing three pounds. This fish is too well known to 
need any description. Suffice it to say that I relished a piece 
of him broiled for breakfast next morning, as I had never before 
relished Spanish mackerel. We had scarcely gotten under 
way again, with perhaps one third of my line out, when away 
she went again. I thumbed the line, struck hard and although 
the drag was tight, my fish went down the Pass like a bolt of 
lightning, until every foot of my two hundred and fifty feet 
was out. I shuddered as I thought of the possibility of the 
line snapping, but at this juncture I gave him the butt of the 
rod, and succeeded in checking him. Then, what a thrilling 
sight met my eager eye ! Whisp ! he went six feet into the 
air, and shook himself like a wild colt striving to break the 
lariat with which he is caught. But no, my mettley little 
friend, you are securely hooked. My line stands firm, and 
you must abide the consequences. He comes back into the 
water with a terrific splash, and starts directly toward me, and 
with all possible speed I reel in. He passes me, and by the 
time he comes taut above, I have a hundred feet or more of 
the line in hand. Then he jumps again, displaying his rich, 
silvery form in the bright sunlight, each time increasing my 
anxiety to make sure of my prize. As he starts down the 
Pass again with the speed of the wind, I thumb the reel again, 
but in spite of that and the drag, he takes it all out before he 
stops, and again rises high in the air. There is no sulking 



198 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

here, as with almost every other variety of game fish — it is all 
go, and that of the most vigorous quality. He ran constantly 
for thirty minutes, before he showed any signs of weakening, 
but finally was compelled from sheer exhaustion to give up the 
fight, when I landed him on shore. He proved to be what 
the natives call the ''bony-fish," or ''lady-fish," and what the 
Bahama Islanders call the "ten-pounder." It is by far the 
gamiest fish I have ever caught, and I have caught nearly 
every variety of fresh-water fish on the continent. He has 
greater strength and greater speed than any fish of his size I 
ever saw. This one was eighteen inches long and weighed 
five and a half pounds. In form it bears some resemblance 
to the pike or muskalonge of the northern waters, but is 
somewhat thicker in proportion to the length. The back is 
of a pale-blue color, and the sides are of a bright silvery- 
gray. The scales are as large as those of the mullet. It is 
not considered eatable at all here, on account of being so full 
of small bones, but I am inclined to think that it would be 
very palatable if this difficulty could be gotten over. I caught 
four of them during the day, and burned several little blisters 
on my thumb, the marks of which I expect to wear for several 
weeks, as relics of this, the finest day's fishing I ever enjoyed. 

We trolled through the entire length of the Pass, a dis- 
tance of three miles, and caught fish as fast as we could 
handle them. At the mouth of the Pass we pulled up to a 
high bank, where the water was about six feet deep, and saw 
large schools of mangrove snapper (a fish resembling in shape 
our black bass) sporting along the bank, but we had no live 
minnows with us, and no other bait would tempt them, so we 
were com.pelled to pass them until another day. 

We then pulled across to the opposite side of the Pass, 
where the surf was running, and fished an hour for redfish. 
For these we used cut bait (mullet is best) with heavy leads, 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 199 

cast out as far as possible, and let the hook lay on the ground. 
We caught a number of very fine ones, weighing from four to 
six pounds, and about three o'clock pulled up and went home, 
well satisfied with our day's work. We had over a hundred 
pounds of fish, including, besides those mentioned above, 
drum, sheepshead, grunters and sea-trout. 

I shall never forget this day's sport, no matter what other 
rich or varied sports I may enjoy in the future, so great was 
the variety of fish caught and so exciting the nature of the 
fishing. 

For instance, I was trolling for sea-trout, but when I 
hooked a fish I never knew what it was until I got it up to the 
boat. The same state of affairs existed when fishing with cut 
bait for redfish. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

ON BOARD THE " SKY LARK." 

" SHALL AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT ?" — CAPTAIN O. C. SQUYER — 
SEA TROUT — THIRSTING FOR THE BLOOD OF A '"GATOR " — OUR 
DESIRE THOROUGHLY SATISFIED — WE BEGIN TO HANKER AFTER 
SHARK — SHARKS AND SAND-FLIES — A JEW-FISH CAUGHT WEIGH- 
ING ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-THREE POUNDS — PREPARING FOR A 
FIRE-HUNT — MY FIRST FIRE-HUNT. 

When I returned from the Pass, Saturday evening, I was 
delighted to meet, on entering the house, Captain O. C. 
Squyer, of Minneapolis, Minn., an intimate friend of long 
years ago, who had come all the way from Jacksonville to 
meet us and join in the pleasures of a few days' fishing and 
shooting. Accordingly, we all took passage on board the 
" Sky Lark," early Sunday morning, and set sail for the Pass 
again. As soon as we entered it we threw out another artifi- 
cial minnow, and for three hours, as we sailed leisurely along 
the Pass, the scenes of yesterday were ^' acted o'er again." 

First, we hooked a beautiful sea-trout, and after half an 
hour's royal sport playing him, landed him safely in the boat. 
What a magnificent picture ! He is unquestionably the hand- 
somest fish in the Gulf. In profile he is very like the trout of 
the northern and eastern streams, but the coloring is entirely 
different. The color of his back is of a rich, dark marine- 
blue, the sides slightly lighter, and the belly almost white, 
while the spots are jet-black. This fish grows to a very large 
size here, frequently measuring twenty inches in length and 
weighing eight pounds. The meat is clear white and of a 

200 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 201 

very delicate flavor. Following this, we took several Cavalli 
Spanish mackerel, mangrove, snapper and '' bony-fish." 

On arriving at the mouth of the Pass, we pulled up on 
the main beach, where the surF was running high, and threw 
for redfish with fair success. The tide started out about noon, 
and as the fish refused to take bait after that hour, we laid 
by our tackle and spent a few hours very pleasantly '^gather- 
ing up the shells on the shore." About four o'clock we 
returned home. On Monday morning Captain Maurice bade 
us good-bye, and returned home. We parted with him re- 
luctantly. He is a kind-hearted, genteel, companionable 
little fellow, — a sailor '' to the manner-born and thorough- 
bred." 

Mr. Webb's two sons, William and Jack, returned home 
Sunday night, and on Monday morning Jack kindly offered 
to pilot Captain Squyer and I to South creek, a distance of 
three miles, where we could shoot some alligators. I was 
thirsting for the blood of a '"gator," and this proposition 
met with my hearty approval. Jack took his brother's Win- 
chester, the Captain a double shot-gun, and I my little 32- 
caliber Stevens rifle. We each put a substantial lunch into 
our game-bag, and were soon on the war-path. 

A mile from the house we came to the first of a series of 
ponds, in the open pine-woods through which we were to 
pass. In each of these we found plenty of the large water- 
birds so numerous in this state. We took an occasional shot 
at ihem when one offered a very tempting mark, and bagged 
a large number during the day. 

As we entered a small bay-head about two miles irom 
home. Jack, who was in the lead, stopped suddenly and said, 
" There's a deer ! " I stepped to his side and looked in the 
direction indicated. There, sure enough, about a hundred 
yards ahead of us, was a fine young doe feeding in the scrub 



202 THE GULE COAST OF FLORIDA. 

palmetto. Jack whispered to me, ''Shoot and I'll take the 
second shot," at the same time bringing his Winchester to 
his shoulder. There was but a small portion of the animal's 
body visible through the leaves. I drew a bead on that por- 
tion and let go. She doubled up and started to run. At the 
second jump Jack fired and she increased her speed. We let 
the dog loose, and catching sight of the animal he pressed 
her closely. After running perhaps a hundred yards she 
raised her tail and bounded away as if unhurt. 

Many deer hunters claim that a wounded deer always runs 
with its tail down, and would at this point have decided that 
we had both missed. But for my own part I knew this could 
not be so. I knew my aim was sure and that my little 
"hunter's pet" never failed to do its work perfectly when 
held correctly. Jack was equally certain of his aim, and, 
besides, the deer had shown plainly at first that it was badly 
hurt. So we followed the direction the deer and dog had 
taken and after running perhaps half a mile found our deer 
lying prostrate with old Rover standing proudly over it. 
We found upon examination that my ball had passed through 
the animal's loins and that Jack's had broken one hind leg 
at the knee and fractured the other just below. When we 
found her this fractured leg was also broken, but we were 
unable to decide whether she had broken it in running or 
whether the dog had wrenched and broken it after he caught 
her. At any rate we were sure the ball could not have 
broken the bone outright, for she could not have run ten 
feet with both hind legs broken so high up. 

To dress the deer, cut the feet out and tie the skin of the 
legs together was but the work of a few minutes. Then we 
debated briefly whether we should return home at once or 
continue on our course to the creek; but as it was only a 
mile distant and as the deer was not a large one we decided 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 203 

on the latter plan. Jack swung the deer on to his back and 
we took turns carrying it until we reached home. 

We arrived at the head of South creek where it drains a 
large pond, and where we could easily step across it, about 
noon and sat down to eat our lunch. After performing that 
pleasant duty we shouldered our venison and guns and 
started down the creek. 

It increases in size rapidly, and but a short distance down 
we came to some deep holes where we saw large numbers of 
gar-fish sporting in the sunlight. We shot a few of them 
merely for pastime. 

We also saw several very large rovallia, a fish that abounds 
in the fresh waters of this state. It is said to be very gamy 
and to possess excellent qualities as a food fish, but as I have 
neither fished for nor eaten them, I cannot speak from per- 
sonal knowledge. 

About a mile below where we first came upon the creek, 
and two miles from where it empties into the bay, we reached 
tide water, and Jack told us to look out now for 'gators. 
Sure enough, we had gone but a few steps further, when we 
saw two of the monster old saurians lying out on the bank 
sunning themselves. They took the alarm, however, while 
we were yet a long way off, and plunged into the water. As 
we neared the place we saw several others swimming in 
different directions in the same hole. They all disappeared 
as soon as they saw us, so we laid down our luggage, and sat 
down in the shade of a tree to await results. In a few minutes 
one of them stuck his head out of the water, not more than 
thirty yards away, whereupon Captain S. gave him a charge 
of buck-shot in the vicinity of the eye and ear. He 
lashed the water into a foam in his gyrations, and sank out 
of sight, probably mortally wounded. Presently another 
one put his eyes out of the water to look at us. He was near 



204 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

the opposite shore, perhaps fifty yards from where we sat. I 
let go at him, and although I scored a palpable hit, did not 
kill him. 

A 'gator always tells you, unerringly, whether you have 
killed or only wounded him. If wounded, he plunges and 
thrashes around at a lively rate for a few seconds, and sinks 
out of sight ; but if killed dead he performs about the same 
series of evolutions, turns on his back and dies, remaining on 
top of the water. This is the time to go for him if you wish 
to capture him, for he only lays on top of the water fifteen to 
thirty minutes, when the air escapes from the lungs, and he 
sinks. It is very difficult indeed to kill them on dry land 
nowadays, for they are shot at so much that they are exceed- 
ingly wild. But whenever you flush one from the bank, and 
he goes into the water, sit down and rest, and you may 
depend upon it you will have to wait but a few minutes before 
he will put his large black eyes out of the water a.nd look 
around to see if you are still there. Then you have a fine 
target for your rifle. His large, bright, black eye is a decided 
improvement on any Creedmoor bull's-eye. 

The smoke had scarcely cleared away after my last shot, 
when a third 'gator looked up near us, and instantly caught a 
right fielder in his left eye, that turned him over. We then 
supposed we had made it so warm for them that no others 
would show themselves for a while, so we started down the 
stream. The Captain and I had gone a little ahead, when 
Jack, who had not yet started, called to us, and said : 
"Here's another 'gator." I went back, and there, sure 
enough, was an old fellow swimming along down the creek as 
unconcernedly as though he had never heard the report of a 
gun in his life. I waited until he came within about fifty 
feet of me, and then gave him one in the leeward optic. He 
turned two or three somersaults, and stopped on his back with 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 205 

one fore foot sticking out of the water. We left him there as 
a warning to his kind not to tempt the deadly accuracy of a 
Stevens rifle. 

As we were now thoroughly sated with this class of sport, 
we returned home. 

Ever since our arrival here we have been anxious to catch 
a shark, and after supper that evening we prepared Mr. Webb's 
shark tackle, which he kindly loaned us, procured several 
mullet (weighing about two pounds each) for bait, and pro- 
ceeded to our evening's sport. The tackle consists of a half- 
inch rope about fifty feet long, a common dog-chain, double, 
for a leader, and a hook of quarter-inch steel wire bent on a 
two and a-half inch circle. We cut one of the mullet in two, 
hooked both pieces on and cast out, first making the line fast 
to the wharf. We left a coil of the line on the wharf, and 
sat down near it to chat, and wait for a bite. 

Presently the coil began to move off. I sprang to the 
line, caught it and pulled, but my pulling made no difference 
whatever with Mr. Shark. He went on until the line tightened 
up on the wharf. This brought him to the surface of the 
water. He made a terrific plunge and got off. I took up 
the line, put on a new bait and cast again. In a few minutes 
we had another pull with the same result. During the evening 
we had seven bites from shark and a thousand or more from 
sand-flies, but failed in every instance to fasten our fish, 
owing probably to the mouth of the shark being so hard and 
bony that it is difficult to make the hook penetrate it. 

About ten o'clock at night we gave up the sport, went 
home and retired, having first baited our hook carefully and 
thrown it out in hopes of fastening one during the night. 
Early the next morning I went to the wharf and found the line 
standing out taut. I took hold of it eagerly and \^as 
delighted to find that I had drawn a prize ; that one of the 



206 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

monsters of the deep was securely fastened on the hook. By 
hard pulling I got him in near enough to the wharf to see that 
he was indeed a monster. I could not land him alone so I 
hastened back to the house and called Captain S. to come and 
assist me. He was soon ready for the task and we returned 
to the wharf. By hard pulling we succeeded in. bringing our 
prize ashore. It proved to be a jew-fish, measuring five feet 
eight inches in length, three feet nine inches in circumference, 
and weighing 153 pounds. In his struggles he had broken 
one strand of the chain and one strand of the rope, leaving 
but one of the chain and two of the rope between nim and 
liberty. This fish is very much like the northern black bass 
in form and color, and might with propriety be termed an 
overgrown specimen of that family. We were much better 
pleased with our catch than if we had taken a shark, for this 
fish, while much more rare than the shark, is valued highly 
as an article of food. It is prepared in the same manner as 
the codfish, and the flavor is very much like that of the cod. 
I cut off the two pectoral fins, preserved them, and shall add 
them to my collection of Florida specimens. They each 
measure fourteen inches in length and nine in width. 

After seeing the jew-fish dressed and put away, I took my 
rifle and again went to South creek, but saw no large game of 
any kind. I killed several white egrets and ibises, and 
again amused myself for an hour or two shooting gars, of which 
I saw a great number, in the upper portion of the creek. I 
returned home about three o'clock in the afternoon, and Mr. 
Will Webb informed me that he liad prepared a " pan " and 
had made all necessary preparations for a ''fire-hunt" that 
night, and cordially invited me to accompany him. I gladly 
accepted, for although I had heard much of this novel method 
of deer hunting, had never before had an opportunity of 
participating in it. We split up a quantity of fat pine, or 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 20*7 

*' lightard," as the ''crackers" call it, put it into a coffee- 
sack and loaded Will's double-barrel shot-gun with buck-shot. 
By this time supper was ready. We ate as quickly as possi- 
ble, for it was now dusk. 

We built a fire with our light-wood in the pan, which was 
attached to a pole about six feet long. Will shouldered this 
and his gun, while I shouldered the bag of light-wood and 
took charge of the dog. In this order we moved out. 

As we passed through the gate at the outer edge of the 
farm and entered the heavy pine-woods the scene became 
weird and impressive in the extreme. The fat-pine fire in 
our pan flamed up, throwing a brilliant and glaring light 
among the tall pines to a distance of a hundred yards or 
more. The shadows of the trees reached away into the mid- 
night darkness, moving as we moved and standing still when 
we stood still. When we stopped to listen, as we frequently 
did, the heavy silence was oppressive. It was, however, 
occasionally broken by the hooting or awkward flapping 
through the trees of some great owl who had been bewildered 
by the sudden appearance of our light. Occasionally as we 
passed a slough, a night-heron would fly squawking over our 
heads, apparently anxious to divine the nature and cause of 
this mysterious illumination. Dozens of jacksnipes arose at 
our feet as we passed through the marshes and uttering their 
familiar ''scape, scape," flitted away into the darkness. 
Then again as we came near a bay-head or thicket we occa- 
sionally heard the well-known "whistle" of a deer — some 
wily old buck, perhaps, who had been " fire-hunted " before, 
who was, therefore, unwilling to stand until our light came 
near enough to assume its wonted mesmeric influence over 
him," and who bounded away before we came near enough to 
"shine his eyes." 

Finally we reached North creek. We followed up its 



208 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

bank some distance and then turned toward the house again. 
Will kept turning steadily from right to left and from left to 
right, throwing the light over as large an area as possible and 
scanning the ground closely. Finally he stopped and said to 
me in a whisper, '' There are a pair of eyes." He told me 
to step in front of him. I did so, and he adjusted the light 
so that I could see plainly what appeared to be two balls 'of 
fire, only a short distance from us. I stepped behind agair.^ 
and we discussed them for a few mmutes. Will said they 
were not a deer's eyes, that a deer always gazes intently and 
steadily at the light without moving, while these looked at it 
a moment, looked away, then looked at the light again. 
Furthermore he said these were too close to the ground to be 
a deer's eyes ; that a deer holds its head high in the air when 
puzzled and frightened by the light. 

When these and other points had been canvassed thorough- 
ly we walked toward the object and found it to be a yearling 
calf A less skillful and experienced fire-hunter than Will 
would have blazed away at this pair of eyes at first sight, and 
probably have had to pay from five to ten dollars for his sport. 
We moved on, and as we entered a patch of shrub palmetto 
where the ground had recently been burned over and new 
grass had sprung up, old Rover snifi'ed the air anxiously, 
whined, and in other ways gave unmistakable evidence that 
he scented game. Will said, ^'Lookout for eyes now, this 
is a favorite feeding-ground for deer. ' ' We examined the 
sand, which was bare in places, and saw plenty of fresh signs. 
We moved cautiously on a few rods farther, when Will stopped 
suddenly and looked earnestly to the left. I followed the 
direction of his gaze and saw a pair of flaming eyeballs not 
more than thirty yards from where we stood. Not a word 
was spoken by either of us. We both knew intuitively 
what they belonged to. Old Rover trembled all over like an 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA, 209 

aspen-leaf, but uttered no sound. Will brought his gun for- 
ward, glanced along the barrels and pulled. The report 
rang out on the silent bosom of the night like a peal of 
thunder from a cloudless sky. As it echoed away through 
the tall pines we heard a faint rattle among the palmetto 
bushes, and all was still as death again. 

We walked hurriedly to the spot where a moment before 
we had seen the startling vision, and there lay a noble buck 
breathing his last. Six of the nine buckshot had taken 
effect, four in the head and two in the left shoulder. We 
severed his windpipe, lashed his feet together and carried him 
home. 

Such was my first night's experience in fire-hunting, and I 
sincerely hope this will not be my last. I had always consid- 
ered it a species of pot-hunting, and had never thought I 
should enjoy it until since I came to Florida, and heard so 
much of its merits as a genuine sport. I should not even now 
wish to hunt deer in this way often, for I still think the fire- 
hunter takes an undue advantage of the game; but to the 
lover of nature (and what* true sportsman is not?) a fire-hunt 
must always possess a peculiar and indescribable charm, espe- 
cially in Florida. No sportsman who visits this state should 
under any circumstances leave it without a taste of this 
most novel sport. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

DEER-STALKING AND FIRE-FISHING. 

THE MULE ELEMENT STRONG IN ME — " WALKING BY FAITH, NOT BY 
sight" — IN SEARCH OF ALLIGATORS — A FIGHT BETWEEN AN EAGLE 
AND A FISH-HAWK — A TWO-YEAR-OLD DOE STARTS FROM THE 
THICKET — I FIRE, ROVER STARTS ON THE CHASE — I CARRY HOME 
MY PRIZE — FIRE-FISHING — SHEEPSHEAD — NEEDLE-FISH MUL- 
LET — A HUNDRED POUNDS OF FISH IN THREE HOURS — WE CATCH 
AN INQUISITIVE SHARK. 

Eaely on Wednesday morning I started to return to 
North creek, the scene of our previous night's fire-hunt, in 
hope of getting another shot at deer, which we had found 
were plentiful in that locality. Mr. Webb told me to keep 
well to the right, after leaving the trail at the rear of the 
farm, and that if I did not I would strike a large tract of 
scrub live-oak thickets ; that I could not get through them, 
and would have to go a long way out of my course to get 
around them. I had heard a great deal about these impene- 
trable scrub-oak thickets, and was anxious to see one. Besides, 
I am liberally endowed with that peculiar natural quality 
which in the mule is termed stubbornness, and was anxious to 
find a thicket that I could not get through. So I kept well 
to the left, and sure enough after I had gone a half or three- 
quarters of a mile from the farm I felt my legs becoming 
seriously entangled in what at first seemed to be a vine of 
some kind running on and near the ground, but on examina- 
tion I at once concluded it was the much-talked-of and much- 
dreaded scrub live-oak. It has something the appearance of 
a graDC-vine in places. It runs every way from the root, and 

210 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 211 

intertwines itself among the scrub palmetto and other vege- 
tation in the most intricate and provoking manner possible. 
It is crooked, gnarly, full of knots, thorns, and altogether 
forms one of the most disagreeable jungles I ever undertook 
to explore. 

Proceeding farther into the thicket it became denser, and 
of a larger growth, reaching a height of six to ten feet. I got 
down on my hands and knees and tried to crawl under it, but 
it was thicker on the ground than a foot or two above, so I 
got up again. My flesh crawled, however, as I thought of 
the chances I incurred of stepping on a rattlesnake, or wak- 
ing up a panther in this paradise of theirs. I could not see 
three feet from mc in iB^f clirGcdon except straight up, and I 
verily walked '^by ibiith asd '-lOt by sight." 

Old Rover, i:niy only companion, who generally kept a few 
yards ahead of mc. :mw came voluntarily to heel, perfectly 
willing I should break the way for him. By hard work I 
think I made fully a quarter of a mile an hour for the next 
two hours, and this with the sun beaming down at a '' ninety 
in the shade" rate. 

Finally, about eleven o'clock a.m., I found myself stand- 
ing upon the bank of the creek, or perhaps it might more 
properly be termed a river here, for it is sixty yards wide, 
with an average depth of three to four feet. I stopped and 
debated, so/z^s, what I should do next — how I could best get 
out of this jungle. There was scrub oak to the right of me, 
scrub oak to the left of me, scrub oak in the rear of me, 
and the river in front of me. This oak grows so close to 
the water's edge as to leave no room there for a passage way 
— the branches overlianging the water several feet. 

As my original plan was to go up the creek a mile or two 
after I reached it, I decided to carry it out, and dropping 
back some ten or twenty yards from the bank of the stream. 



212 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

again commenced my tedious march. I moved as cautiously 
as possible and occasionally crawled up to the water's "edge 
and peered cautiously up and down the stream in search of 
alligators. Presently I saw two lying on a low grassy bank 
away up the creek, sunning themselves and looking like great 
black logs. I drew back again and proceeded as quietly as 
possible to a .bend in the creek that would bring me within 
range of them. They heard me before I reached the point,' 
however, and plunged into the water. I stepped behind a 
neighboring pine-tree and waited a few minutes for them to 
come up. I did not have to wait long. One of them arose 
to the surface a hundred yards below me. I did not molest 
him, for I thought I could do better. In a few minutes the 
other put his eyes out of the water near the opposite bank, 
not more than fifty yards away. I looked through my globe 
sight, saw his great black eye glisten in the sunlight, and 
pulled. He doubled up, and his back came out of the water 
until he formed a great half-circle. Then he went down, and 
next his head and tail came out approaching each other until 
they almost met. Then he disappeared again, and at once 
reappeared, doubled and twisted into an almost indistinguish- 
able mass. When he unfolded himself this time he remained 
on top of the water, lying on his back, and then I knew 
that he was dead. 

He was a very large one, some ten or eleven feet long. I 
was anxious to get him out and preserve some of his teeth, 
but, as I had no boat or other means of reaching him, was 
unable to do so. Another half-hour of hard, tedious crawl- 
ing took me out of the scrub-oak thicket into the open pine- 
woods and I sat down on a log near the bank of the creek to 
rest. Here I saw a scene enacted the like of which I had 
never witnessed before, though I had read and heard of it 
since the days of my early childhood. A la^ge fish-hawk, 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 213 

that had been soaring up and down the stream, saw a good- 
sized fish lying near the surface of the water, and, folding his 
wings close to his body, darted down upon it with the velocity 
of an arrow, caught it and carried it up into the top of a low 
pine-tree, where he prepared to make a meal off it. A great 
bald eagle, who had been sitting secreted in the top of one of 
the tallest pines in the neighborhood, awaiting this opportu- 
nity, pitched from his lofty perch, reefed his pinions, shot 
through the air like a bolt of lightning and struck the fish- 
hawk with such force as to send it whirling through the 
branches of the tree. The fish fell to the ground. The 
eagle followed, picked it up and carried it away. The fish- 
hawk, after having recovered from the effects of the shock it had 
received, flew into a neighboring tree and sat there for a long 
time, silent and sullen, brooding over the burning insult he 
had received, but which, owing to his inferior size and 
strength, he was powerless to resent. I left the poor bird 
there and went my way, unwilling to add to his wrongs by 
sending a ball after him. 

As I turned to go toward home I entered the tract of land 
that had recently been burned over, where the night before 
Will had killed the buck while we were fire-hunting. I 
examined the ground and saw plenty of fresh signs. I called 
Rover in and kept him close. As I ascended a slight ridge 
he caught wind of game and looked anxiously to the left. I 
moved cautiously in that direction a few steps, when a fine 
two-year-old doe, who had been lying under a bunch of scrub 
oak about thirty yards ahead, arose and bounded away to the 
right. After making a few jumps she stopped to look and , 
listen, as if not quite certain where the noise that had startled 
her came from. Here was my golden opportunity. I stood 
behind a scrub palmetto that almost entirely concealed me 
from her searching gaze. She was not over fifty yards away 



214 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

and stood broadside toward me. I took my rifle quickly to 
my eye, drew a firm and steady aim on her shoulder and fired. 
She made a few halting, undecisive leaps and then settled 
down to a steadier, though evidently painful, run. By this 
time I had slipped in another cartridge, and as she crossed a 
slight opening in the palmettos, probably a hundred and 
thirty yards oft, I pulled in about thee feet ahead of her and 
let go a second time. Rover had started for her at the first 
shot, and as she was badly hurt and losing strength all the 
time he gained rapidly upon her. I stood and watched the 
race. I saw the deer pass along the margin of a pond three 
or four hundred yards distant, and as she attempted to jump 
a log she staggered and fell. The dog was upon her in a 
second, and I started in hot haste to secure my prize. 

She was still alive when I arrived, but I hastily dispatched 
her with my knife. I found on examination that my first 
shot had penetrated her shoulder, passed through and out on 
the opposite side, just in front of the other shoulder. My 
second shot had missed entirely. She was probably not run- 
ning as fast as I estimated and I had held too far ahead. I 
dressed the deer and carried her home. 

On arriving at the house, Mr. Griffith, a son-in-law of 
our host, who lives only a mile below, was there with his 
boat, and kindly informed me that he had prepared a fishing- 
jack, and made all other necessary preparations to take us all 
out fire-fishing that night. 

This is another species of sport I had never yet tested, 
and was delighted with the prospect of an evening's experi- 
ence in it. 

As soon as we had eaten supper, it being then dark enough 
for our light to show well upon the water, we started out. 
Our party consisted of Mrs. Guptill, my wife, Mr. Griffith, 
Will Webb, Captain Squyer and myself, — six in all. We dis- 



THiS GtJLF COAST OF FLORIDA. ^15 

posed ourselves about the boat, so as to trim it to the best 
advantage. 

We had two spears, or graining-irons, as the natives call 
them, and a harpoon. Will gave Captain S. one of the 
spears, me the other, and took charge of the harpoon 
himself. Mr. Griffith took the first stand at the stern and 
pulled us over shoals and around the margins of small islands 
and oyster-bars where the best sport was to be had. 

Our fat pine fire in the jack, which occupied the bow, cast 
a brilliant light on the water, enabling us to see the smallest 
fish in three or four feet of water as plainly as though it were 
midday. This glaring light coming suddenly upon the fish 
seems to blind them, and many of them lie perfectly still 
watching it, while others run wildly hither and thither com- 
pletely bewildered. They frequently run their muzzles 
squarely against the sides of the boat. • 

By this means the fish are rendered comparatively easy 
prey to the spear, if in the hands of a person who under- 
stands throwing it. Our first run was over a sand -flat in 
about two feet of water, where lay scattering oyster-shells. 
Here we were enabled for the first time to study another of 
the eccentricities of nature, of which we had often heard and 
read, but never before seen demonstrated, — it is the habit of 
the sheepshead to lie down at night and sleep, like any other 
Christian. They lay flat on their back (or rather sharply on 
their back, for they are a flat fish with a sharp back), 
propped up against an oyster shell and using another for 
a pillow. Will killed several of them before I saw any, and 
I asked him where he was getting so many sheepshead. 
He said he was picking them up out of their beds. Then 
pointing ahead, on my side of the boat he said; 

" There's one lying against that oyster shell, take him." 



216 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

"What," said I, "that little white object? A sheeps- 
head is dark on his back." 

" Yes, but that's his belly you are looking at. He's lying 
on his back. " 

By this time we were over him. I struck ; and sure 
enough stuck a prong -of the spear into his belly. We killed 
a large number of them in this way during the evening, and 
when we had secured as many as we cared for, quit killing 
them, but occasionally we turned them over gently with the 
spear, woke them up, saw them rub their eyes with their 
pectoral fins (metaphorically speaking) until fully awake, 
when they would 

"Dart away 
As if to say. 
You don't catch us napping." 

Other varieties of fish, such as mullet, red-fish, trout, man- 
grove snapper, and others swim very rapidly when frightened 
by the light, and in throwing at them one must make a time 
allowance the same as when shooting birds on the wing- 
Besides a " depth " allowance must be made. That is, if the 
fish be some distance away from the boat, and you throw at 
him at an angle of, say forty-five degrees, you must aim from 
six to eighteen inches under him, owing to the depth at 
which he lies below the surface of the water. Taking these 
facts, together with the motion of the boat, into considera- 
tion, fire-fishing is no boy's play after all, but a genuine and 
exciting sport, requiring almost as much practice, skill and 
judgment to become proficient in it as does shooting on the 
wing. 

We ran into several schools of mullet and it was amusing 
to see the rapid speed they made in getting away from the 
light. Hundreds of needle fish, a beautiful little denizen of 
the salt water, sported on the surface, followed the light and 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 217 

seemed to really enjoy its influence. We captured several of 
them, and I preserved the head of one, which I have added 
to my collection as a relic of the occasion. 

We killed over a hundred pounds of fish during the two 
or three hours we were out, among which were the sea-trout, 
drum, grunter, mullet, mangrove snapper, red-fish, etc. Mr. 
Grifiith killed one drum that weighed over eight pounds. A 
regular old bass drum, as it were. 

As we passed over a sand bar about nine o'clock a great 
white shark came alongside to inspect our cargo and see what 
our headlight was made of. Captain Squyer had the harpoon 
in hand at the time, and when the old monster came within 
easy reach, plunged it through his body just back of the head. 
Mr. Shark's curiosity was satisfied at once, and he headed for 
deep water with all the speed he could command. There 
were thirty feet of line attached to the harpoon and made fast 
to the bow of the boat, and as he took it out. Will, who was 
then at the helm, threw the bow straight toward the fleeing 
carcharion, and as the line tightened up away we went across 
the bay at the rate of about fifteen knots an hour. He towed 
us back and forth, up and down, at this exciting rate for fifteen 
or twenty minutes before his strength failed him in the least. 
The ladies shrieked with fright occasionally as he made a 
sudden turn that well nigh capsized the boat, but we went 
through the hazardous ordeal safely. Finally he weakened, 
and Will poled us up near enough to give him one of the 
smaller spears. This, by a lucky shot, broke his back, and 
nothing now remained but to tow him ashore. When we 
reached land all hands went ashore, united their strength and 
hauled him up. He measured eight feet four inches in length, 
and weiged 227 pounds. 

With this capture we closed the evening's entertainment, 
and went home. 



218 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

There are many sportsmen who condemn fire-fishing as a 
species of butchery, and in fact I have always hitherto 
regarded it in that Hght myself, but since this experience I must 
admit that I rather like it. I should not want to indulge in 
it often even now, but for an occasional evening, with pleas- 
ant companions, as we had on this occasion, and in waters 
teeming with fish, as do those of the Gulf coast of Florida, I 
must accord to it the blue ribbon for vigorous, exciting manly 
sport. 

Jack and I held a consultation before retiring that night, 
and decided to start early the next morning for a camp hunt 
of four or five days on the Myakka river, ten miles distant, 
where turkeys, deer and other large game are always 
plentiful. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

FOUR DAYS ON THE MYAKKA RIVER. 

THE CAMPING GROUND OF COUGHPENNSLOUGH — THE " PALMEETER CAB- 
BAGE" — THE sportsman's PARADISE — I BECOME PIOUS — SATAN TO 
THE FRONT — A MOSSY BED — TA-WHOO-OO-OO-AH — " GOBBLE, GOBBLE* 
GOBBLE" — THE WOODS ALIVE WITH SQUIRRELS — THE BOUNDING 
BUCK — A FLOCK OF TURKEYS — ROSEATE SPOONBILLS — THE SAD 
WORDS " GOOD-BYE." 

According to previous arrangement Jack harnessed the 
horse and hitched him to the cart. We loaded in our tent, 
blankets, provisions, ammunition, etc.; he took the lines, 
and we were off for a four days' camp hunt on the Myakka 
river. For several years past I have heard the praises of this 
mystic region sung by sportsmen who have visited it and 
experienced its charms, and the glowing accounts I received 
of it from Mr. Webb and his family only served to heighten 
my anxiety to see it with my own eyes. We left home at 
half-past ten in the morning. Our route lay through a tract 
of open pine woods, the monotony of which was relieved by 
ponds scattered along the entire distance, at each of which 
we got a shot or two at the large water birds, which always 
hover around them. 

At half-past one o'clock we arrived at the scene of one ot 
Billy Bowlegs' old camping grounds during his war with the 
United States troops. He gave it the poetical name of 
Coughpennslough ; and it is said that one of his favorite 
warriors lies buried not far from here, who was court-mar- 
tiaied according to the Indian custom and shot on account of 

219 



220 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

some offensive remark made in the chiefs presence concerning 
the name given to this camp. 

We took dinner on this historical ground. Our box of 
provisions being in the bottom of the cart and covered some 
two feet deep with our bedding, tent and other camp luggage, 
we decided not to undertake the task of digging it out, but to 
fall back on the resources of the country for our snack. So 
we took out the ax and cut down a palmetto-tree, then we cut 
off about two feet of the top of the tree, split it open and 
took out the central portion — the bud — a core three to four 
inches in diameter and eighteen to twenty inches long. Upon 
this, seasoned cum grano salts, we made a frugal hinch, and 
one which any epicure might have envied us. 

This ''palmeeter cabbage," as the crackers call it, is really 
delicious in flavor and highly nutritious. It is white and 
brittle like celery, but much richer in taste. The people 
here boil it for the table, when it assumes more of the char- . 
acter and flavor of asparagus. In many families it forms a 
staple article of food, and I am of the opinion that were it- 
introduced in the North it would at once be considered a 
great delicacy there. It is certainly far superior to celery as 
a relish or asparagus as a side-dish. 

There is not the least danger of any one starving to death 
in a Florida wood so long as he have an ax or hatchet with 
which to cut palmetto buds. 

Jack and I stored away a good-sized bud, and after eating 
two or three oranges each by way of dessert, boarded the 
' ' Myakka Express ' ' again and rolled on toward the happy 
hunting ground. When we got within two and a-half miles 
of the river we stopped and cut a liberal supply of light-wood 
to take with us, as no pine grows nearer the stream than this, 
and there is no pleasure in camping in this country without a 
liberal supply of this staple commodity. 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 221 

In fact, many Floridians say they had rather try to keep 
house without sweet potatoes than without "lightard." 
Jack tells a story of an old cracker who sold his farm and 
prepared to move out of a certain township. One of his 
neighbors came to remonstrate with him, and asked him 
what he wanted to leave the neighborhood for ; if this were 
not as good a country to live in as any other. ** Yes," said 
the old man, ''this is a good enough country, only there's no 
lightard here." 

We loaded our 'Mightard" into the cart and drove on. 
After going half a mile we emerged upon a beautiful broad 
prairie some two miles wide. Upon the further side of this 
we saw a strip of heavy timber through which runs the river. 
We pushed on across the prairie and at three o'clock entered 
a grove of tall, stately live-oaks on the bank of the long- 
looked-for and anxiously-sought Myakka river, and pitched 
our tent. And what a lovely site for a camp ! It is on a 
high bank where the river makes a horse-shoe bend, and we 
are in the toe of the shoe, so to speak. The massive live- 
oaks stand close together, the limbs of each one intertwining 
affectionately with those of its neighbor, and the long, gray, 
Spanish moss hanging to within a few feet of the ground. This 
moss, together with the leaves of the trees, formed a covering 
above us so thick as to entirely exclude the rays of the sun by 
day and to protect us from the dew at night. The river is 
but a few feet from us in front or on either side, and in the 
rear are open glades that furnish excellent grazing for our 
horse. 

Jack staked him out and we took our guns and went up 
the river for a few hours' shooting before dark. This is in- 
deed the happy hunting ground — the sportsman's paradise. 

As we walked quietly around a bend in the river, just out 
of sight of our camp, and came upon an open glade or 



222 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

meadow, of perhaps an acre, a sight met our eyes that might 
have inspired the soul of a poet to sing his sweetest songs, or 
have awakened in the mind of the prosiest human being 
visions of Paradise. There sat great flocks of large, richly- 
colored birds, the backs of which were nearly white, the 
wings and breast a rich and varied pink, changing in some of 
the males to almost a scarlet. These are the roseate spoon- 
bill. 

In another part of the glade is a large flock of the stately 
wood ibis, with a body of pure white, and the wings a 
glossy, radiant purple and black. In still another part, a 
flock of snowy white egrets, and here and there a blue or 
gray heron, or other tropical bird. Alarmed by our ap- 
proach they all arose, but as if aware that their matchless 
beauty was a perfect safeguard against the destroying hand of 
man, they soared around over our heads for several minutes 
before flying away. As they thus hovered over us we stood 
and contemplated the scene in silent awe and a'cimiration. 
Our guns were at a parade rest. We had no desire to stain a 
single one of their elegant plumes with their rich blood. Our 
souls were filled with thoughts of heaven and the bright angels 
who hover o'er its golden gates. 

Finally, Jack yielded to a desire to secure one of the birds 
for mounting, and selecting one of the finest specimens, as 
they sailed over us, fired. The bird fell into the river, 
and an alligator, a lank, hungry, ugly looking old cuss, who 
had been watching for such a chance to secure a meal, went 
for it and took it under the water in a twinkling. 

Then our visions of paradise fled, and we almost imagined 
we were in the other place, face to face with old Satan him- 
self. 

We strolled up the river a mile, to the foot of Lower 
Myakka Lake which is about a mile and a half wide at the 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 223 

widest part and two miles long. In the winter season it is 
a favorite duck ground, as are many of the smaller ponds 
along the river, and the tropical water birds breed here in 
great numbers. 

We saw several large flocks of teal, but did not care to 
shoot them. Jack took a shot at one flock, however, and 
secured three for supper. 

It was growing late, and we returned to camp without 
finding any better game. We proceeded at once to prepare 
supper, put up the tent, make beds, etc. We dressed our 
ducks, cut palmetto-stems, split one end, sharpened the 
points and impaled the birds on them. We then sharpened 
the other end and stuck it in the ground, so as to hold the 
duck over the fire. They were soon roasted to a turn. It 
was now dark. Jack started to the river to get water for our 
coffee, and as he passed the end of a large hollow log that 
lay a few feet from the fire, he heard a slight noise in it. We 
cut a stick and passed it in, when we found there was " some- 
thing alive in it," as Dundreary says of his hat. We put a 
bunch of dry moss in the opening and set fire to it. In a 
few minutes a 'possum came tumbling out through the fire, 
and old Rover, who stood there waiting for him, made short 
work of him. 

After supper we pulled down a large quantity of moss and 
made a bed in the tent, that a king might have envied. 
I have been told that this moss was full of red-bugs, and thdl 
any one who attempted to sleep on it would find himscU 
drilled full of holes by them before morning ; but we slept on 
it here four nights, and did not get a single bite. 

We sat around the fire an hour chatting, enjoying the 
balmy night air and making our plans for the morrow, after 

which we laid down, 

" And all night slept 
In Elysium." 



224 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

About five o'clock in the morning ,we were awakened by a 
great owl who perched on a Umb directly over us, and called 
out in his shrill, piercing voice, Ta-whoo-oo-oo-ah ! 

Jack reached for his gun, crawled out, and by the light of 
the moon, which shone brightly at the time, shot him. Later 
in the day, Jack skinned the bird, and will send the skin to a 
Boston taxidermist. His stately form will probably ere long 
adorn the window of some apothecary's shop, and I would that 
a photograph of the scene of his taking off might be hung 
beside it. It v/ould add greatly to the interest of the 
occasion. 

There were the heavy branches of the great live-oaks 
draped in long gray moss, with the pale light of the moon 
flittering through them ; the blue smoke from our camp-fire 
curlnig gently up through the trees ; Jack in his long white 
nightdress, fluttering ominously in the wind, stalking through 
the woods with his gun across his arm like a specter rufiian, 
bent on some foul deed of midnight murder. Finally there 
was a flash, a string of livid fire reaching away up into the 
tree-tops, a sudden peal of thunder, a flapping through the 
branches, a " thud " on the ground and all was silent again. 
But to describe it is unsatisfactory ; such a picture must be 
seen to be appreciated. When this was over we got into our 
harness, put a few biscuits, a few oranges and some salt into 
our game bags, and as soon as the first messenger of day was 
visible in the east, we started down the river. By the time 
we had gone a mile it was light. As we entered the edge of 
a small hammock, we heard a turkey fly into a palmetto-tree. 
We walked cautiously toward the tree and as we stopped to 
listen another stepped out into an opening not more than 
fifty yards away. I raised my rifle and fired, but from some 
unaccountable cause, missed. The bird was out of sight be- 
fore Jack could get a shot. Then we ran in opposite direc- 



THE CULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 225 

tions in hopes of surprising the flock and getting another 
shot. Presently I heard both barrels of Jack's gun and went 
toward him. I found him loading, with a fine gobbler lying 
dead at his feet. He had buckshot in one barrel and num- 
ber six in the other. He had bagged this bird with the buck- 
shot, but the one he put the number six into, although badly 
hurt, had gone away. We went on down the river some 
three miles farther, but failed to get another shot. The 
woods are literally alive with squirrels here, but no one shoots 
them ; they are considered, too small game to kill in this 
country. Consequently they are as tame as the English spar- 
rows in our streets. They frequently sit and bark saucily at 
us while we pass within ten feet of them. It is no uncom- 
mon thing to see five or six on a single tree. About ten 
o'clock we got hungry and I picked off three of the little 
fellows. Jack made a fire while I dressed them, and we had 
them on toasting sticks almost before they had quit kicking. 
They were soon nicely browned, and on these, with the bis- 
cuit we had brought with us, we made a sumptuous breakfast. 
We then returned to camp, and when we arrived there, found 
the fire we had lighted in the hollow log the previous night, 
to smoke the 'possum out, still burning. 

It had burned the top of the log off, leaving a large, 
trough-shaped cavity which was a mass of live coals, and 
which served as a capital oven in which to roast our turkey. 

We dressed the turkey, put a stick through him, drove a 
fork on either side of the log, and laid the stick in the forks, 
so that the fowl rested over the hottest part of the fire. As 
one side baked done, we turned him over. There was no 
smoke, and our oven was a perfect success. Soon after we 
put the turkey on, we heard two shots about a mile west of 
our camp. We knew at once it was Will, who had promised 
15 



226 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

to come out to-day and join us, so we answered with a double 
salute from Jack's gun. 

Just as dinner was ready, Will came in sight, carrying a 
fine old gobbler. We were delighted to see him in this wil- 
derness, for we had not seen a human being, nor even a track 
of one, since leaving home. After dining heartily on roast 
turkey, sweet potatoes, and fresh biscuits, with oranges for 
dessert, we took to the woods again, each going in a different 
direction. 

Jack crossed the river and went east. Will went down, 
and I up the river. I had not gone more than a mile when I 
heard a rattling noise in the sea-ash thicket, and looking 
under the branches saw a fine large buck come bounding 
directly toward me. He had been frightened by something, 
probably the report of Jack's gun on the other side of the 
river. He had not yet seen me. I stood perfectly still until 
he came within about fifty yards of me, and taking a steady 
aim at his breast, fired. He turned suddenly to the right, 
made one jump, and fell dead. The ball had gone a little 
higher than I aimed, and entered his neck near the base of 
the windpipe. It had cut the windpipe and shattered the 
neck bone. I dressed the animal, and found he was rather 
heavy to carry, so returned to camp, got the horse, and got 
back to camp with my venison just as Will returned from the 
opposite direction with another good large gobbler. 

In half an hour more Jack returned with a turkey and 
four ducks; with this score we closed the day's sport, and 
spent the evening after supper dressing our game. While we 
were at supper a large 'gator raised his head in the middle of 
the river opposite our tent. I sent a message from *'old 
reliable," and in an instant more he was lashing the water 
into a foam, minus an eye. 

At daylight the following morning we were again on foot, 



THE GUIfF COAST OF FLORIDA. 227 

in hope of finding more turkeys, for we had found several 
large flocks already, from whfch we had ^s yet taken but a 
few. We scattered, and an occasional shot from each told 
the others that our search was not in vain. About ten o'clock 
we all turned up at camp once more, and pooled our issues. 
We had three turkeys in all, and Jack had fourteen coots that 
he had killed at a single shot. We then roasted one of the 
best turkeys and a loin of venison, in our hollow log oven — 
which was still in fine condition — for dinner. As I dressed 
the turkey I noticed that there was a large cavity in it after 
removing the entrails, which I thought might as well be 
utilized, so I put a teal duck into it, and placed the turkey 
over the fire without mentioning it to either of the boys. 
When we sat down to dinner. Jack took hold of the turkey to 
carve it, and saw a leg of the duck protruding. He pulled 
the little fellow out, held it up, and drily remarked : '^ Well, 
I've traveled this road a year or more, but" never saw a gob- 
bler with such a young one in before." The^ '' young one " 
was well done, however, and we relished it quite as much as 
any dish on the bill of fare. 

After dinner I went south about three miles. On the way 
I killed a large wood ibis, and hung it up in a tree so that I 
could get it on my return. I took off my vest and buttoned 
it around him to keep the buzzards, wild cats, etc., from 
eating him. Farther down the stream I saw a flock of six or 
eight turkeys, but could not get a shot at them. About sun- 
down I turned and started toward camp, listening intently in 
hope of hearing turkej^s coming in to roost,. but was not 
favored with any of that welcome music. I kept a sharp 
lookout, however, in all the tall trees, knowing that it was 
possible for them to fly in within a few yards of me without 
my hearing them. 

Finally I saw one in the top of a large live-oak. I fired, 



228 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

and cut out a bunch of feathers, but the bird went away. I 
felt very sore over this loss, and hurried on toward camp. 

In a few minutes I saw another in a still taller tree. It 
was now so dark I could not see the sights of my rifle at all, 
so I turned down the rear sight, glanced along the barrel, 
saw the large, dark body of my bird against the sky, pulled, 
and was rewarded by seeing him tumble through the thick 
branches to the ground. I was under the tree by the time he 
reached the ground, and picking him up hurried on. In a 
few minutes I saw another, this time a large gobbler, perched 
high in the top of a tall tree. When I fired he started to fly 
toward me, but by the time he got over me his strength 
failed, and he fell within two feet of where I stood, I slipped 
in another cartridge, took my bird, and started again. 

By this time the stars were shining, but I continued to 
scan the tops of the trees closely. Presently I saw another 
dark object against the sky, and knew from the shape that it 
was a turkey. It was, perhaps, thirty-five yards from me. I 
took the best aim I could, pulled and scored my third bird, 
this time a fat young hen. 

What a magnificent hand ! Two kings and a queen ! For 
the wild turkey is truly the king of birds. My blood bounded 
through my veins as I contemplated my game. Three straight 
birds, two in deep twilight and the third by starlight. Not a 
bad score for a rifle, eh ? 

It was now so dark that my only means of finding my way 
to camp was by following the bank of the river. It was light 
enough close to the water to walk comfortably, but back in 
the thicket it was so dark that an Indian could not see to get 
through it. 

I succeeded in finding my wood ibis, and when I added 
it to my already large bag, had a full load. It is about the 
same size as the turkey. The four birds weighed over fifty 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 229 

pounds. I tied their heads together and swung them over my 
shoulder, two in front and two behind. 

The river is so crooked that following it closely made me 
about three or four times the distance to walk that I should 
have had could I have gone straight through the woods, and I 
did not reach camp until after eight o'clock. Will and Jack 
were there dressing game and preparing supper. Will had 
brought in another turkey, and Jack a deer and twenty-one 
teal ducks. He killed the ducks at two shots — thirteen to 
his first barrel and eight to his second. Teal are very plenti- 
ful here and very tame. The mallards and other large ducks 
have not come in yet. 

We were out at daylight again the following morning and 
decided to make but a brief hunt that day and start for home 
at noon. A mile below camp I got a running shot at a deer 
and missed. Soon after I came upon a flock of turkeys, 
feeding under some live-oaks. I knocked one over and as 
they ran tried another but failed to get him. I then started 
for camp, and as I had no hope of seeing any more large game 
concluded to take in a few squirrels. 

As I walked rapidly toward camp I picked off those nearest 
to my path, and when I got in and counted up my bag had 
sixteen. I also killed one of the brightest and handsomest 
roseate spoonbills I could find. Not having time to skin it 
properly for mounting I cut off the wings and head and shall 
preserve them. I did the same with my wood ibis, killed the 
day before. Soon after I reached camp Jack came in with 
still another turkey. Will drew a blank this time. He failed 
to get a shot at anything. After breakfast we broke camp and 
commenced preparations for the homeward march. I saw a 
small alligator lying on the bank a few rods from us, and 
being anxious to take home a skin of one, picked up my rifle. 
At the sight of it he went into the water. I waited a few 



230 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

minutes and he came up to take a look at me. I sent a ball 
through his head and pulled him out. In a few minutes he 
recovered from the shock and commenced thrashing the 
ground at a lively rate. I cut his throat open and severed the 
windpipe, but he would not lie still and tried very hard to 
breathe. I opened his body and took out the lungs, heart 
and all the entrails, and even then it was a full hour before 
it would lie still enough for me to skin it. If a cat has nine 
lives, this animal must have at least nineteen. 

I could give further details of this case more wonderful by 
far than those I have mentioned, but I forbear, lest they should 
prove offensive to some sensitive reader. 

Suffice it to say that the contortions and violent struggles 
continued for at least three hours after what I have described 
took place. I have heard some most marvelous accounts of 
this animal's tenacity of life — its post mortem powers, so to 
speak. 

Will Webb told me that he killed a large one near their 
house some years ago. He shot it through the head several 
times with a rifle, and then took an ax and pounded its head 
into a pulp. He took out several of its largest teeth to 
preserve as specimens; then cut it open and took out a 
quantity of the fat which is extensively used in this country 
for gun oil. They then left the carcass lying, but what was 
their surprise on going back the next day to bury it, to find 
that it had actually crawled away ! They could see its trail, 
plainly, where it had gone into the water. Such stories sound 
incredible, but the facts can be corroborated by correspon- 
dence or conversation with anyone who is familiar with the 
nature and habits of the 'gator. 

We loaded our game and camp equipage into the cart and 
about one o'clock p.m. reluctantly bade adieu to the enchant- 
ing Myakka, with all its charming associations; its great live- 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 231 

oak forests; its dense sea-ash thickets; its everglades; its 
flaming-hued water birds ; its deer, turkeys, and the thousand 
and one other attractions that render it so dear to a sportsman 
and a lover of nature. 

Though I may in future years visit every famous hunting 
ground on the continent; though all such trips may be emi- 
nently successful, I can never hope to experience more 
genuine pleasure in so short a period of time than I did in 
this four days on the Myakka river. I shall ever cherish it in 
my memory as one of the brightest, most romantic and excit- 
ing episodes of my whole life. 

We arrived at Mr. Webb's just as the sun was going down 
among the white caps on the Gulf, and on the morrow began 
preparations for our return North. We packed our trunks, 
taking great care to put our collection of specimens in in such 
a manner that they would carry safely. Mr. Webb loaded 
about thirty boxes of oranges, our baggage and two days pro- 
visions into the little *' Sea Bird." By this time night had 
arrived, and it being our last night here we concluded to go 
fire-fishing once more. 

As soon as it was dark. Jack, Mr. Grifiith and myself took 
the spears, lit our fire in the fishing-jack and pushed off. We 
had excellent sport and killed a large number of fine fish. 
Among the number was one angel-fish, a variety we had not 
caught before. We also killed a good-sized sting-ray, and I 
preserved his tail. It is only an inch in diameter at the base 
and twenty-three inches long. We returned to the house 
about nine o'clock, having taken over sixty pounds of fish. 

The next morning, December nth, we stepped on board 
the "Sea Bird." Mr. and Mrs. Grifiith, Jack, my wife and 
I, and sailed for Manatee, where we were to take the steamer 
for Cedar Key. 

We got into the Mangroves at low tide, about noon, 



232 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

and had considerable difficulty in getting through them. Jack 
had to wade ashore and get a skiff, with which we transferred 
our freight and passengers over the worst portions until the 
boat was light enough to pass the shoals. We got through 
about five d' clock, and from there we had a smooth voyage. 
We sailed all night, Jack and Mr. Griffith taking turns at the 
helm. About ten o'clock we spread our blankets on the deck, 
laid down, and slept soundly with the canopy of heaven as 
our only covering. The ladies made no complaint at this 
rough fare, but on the contrary really enjoyed the novelty 
and romance of it. At six o'clock in the morning we landed, 
made coffee, and ate a hearty breakfast of cold turkey, bis- 
cuits, etc., with some delicious bananas fresh from Mr. 
Griffith's grove, for desert. 

We landed at Manatee at two p.m., just as the steamer 
" Valley City" hove in sight. Here we were compelled to 
say the sad words "good-bye " to our friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
G., and Jack. We boarded the steamer and were soon 
under way for Cedar Key, where we arrived early the next 
morning. At night we went out on a small schooner to take 
the Havana steamer which lay at anchor at the moutA of the 
harbor, eight miles out, for New Orleans, But soon after we 
left the wharf a storm came on, and it grew so dark and the 
water so rough that the pilot said he could not follow the 
channel, and was obliged to cast anchor. 

So we were compelled to lay here all night, cooped up in 
the hold of this little vessel, with no room to lie down and 
scarcely room to sit down. It rained in torrents nearly all 
night, and blew in upon us every time the hatch was opened, 
which seemed to be about every ten minutes. When day- 
light came, we found that the tide had gone out and left us 
aground "high and dry." We waited patiently until about 
eleven o'clock a.m., when it kindly came in again and took 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 233 

US off the bar. The storm having abated, we were now en- 
abled to go on our way rejoicing, and reached the steamer 
about noon. Having been cooped up on the little schooner 
eighteen hours without food, drink, or a place to lay our 
heads, we were truly grateful when we entered the commodi- 
ous and handsome cabin of the good steamer '' Chase," and 
when a few moments later we were called to a sumptuous and 
palatable dinner, Captain Baker's order to us to help our- 
selves was obeyed as promptly and vigorously as was any com- 
mand he ever gave his obedient and well-disciplined crew. 
We had rough weather all the way across the Gulf, and were 
glad when we entered the mouth of the Mississippi river and 
the vessel ceased her uneasy rolling and tossing. We passed 
the Eads jetties just after daylight on the third morning after 
leaving Cedar Key, and had a pleasant and interesting trip 
up the river, arriving at New Orleans late at night. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

WORDS OF ADVICE TO TOURISTS TO FLORIDA. 

EXPENSES OF A TRIP — MUST CALL AT ST. AUGUSTINE — BRING YOUR GUN 
AND RIFLE — PROVIDE PLENTY OF AMMUNITION — DON'T FORGET 
SHARK TACKLE — TAKE A SMALL TENT — A LIGHT RUBBER COAT — AND 
A HEAVY BLANKET — THE ONLY FOOT-GEAR NEEDED IS A PAIR OF 
COWHIDE SHOES — TAKE ALSO SOME SIMPLE MEDICINES — QUI- 
NINE — CALOMEL — THE EXPENSES OF THE JOURNEY SMALL. 

There are, perhaps, a few sportsmen in the country who 
have not at some time felt a wish to visit Florida, and per- 
haps a majority have thought of a trip to the '' land of flow- 
ers " as among the possibilities of the ''dim distant future." 
Others have gone farther, and planned the trip into definite 
shape, even to fixing the time of starting. 

In the minds of such the first questions arising are, What 
is the best route to Florida ? What portions of the state are 
the most prolific in game and fish ? In which localities can 
I find the best accommodations at the lowest prices ? What 
class of guns, ammunition, and fishing tackle will I most 
need for the game and fish peculiar to the country ? 

What will be the necessary expense of a two or three 
months' trip to Florida and what season of the year is most 
suitable for such a trip? These and similar questions have 
been asked me repeatedly since my return from Florida, and 
it is my purpose in this chapter to answer them to the best of 
my ability, and to give such other facts as in my judgment 
may be useful to persons going there. First, then, as to the 
route. Competing lines of railroad offer several different 
routes, each possessing certain advantages, but perhaps the 

234 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 285 

shortest and most direct, and that by which the trip may be 
made in the shortest space of time, is by way of Louisville, 
Nashville, and Montgomery, Ala. By this route, tickets to 
Cedar Key and return may be purchased over either of two 
or three roads running south from Chicago, good for six 
months, for about ^65. This route takes the tourist to Bald- 
win, only twenty miles from Jacksonville. Here a stop-over 
check should be procured, good for fifteen days, in order to 
visit Jacksonville, St. Augustine, and to make a trip by 
steamer up the St. John's and Oclawaha rivers. 

No trip to Florida could be complete if it did not include 
a view of the magnificent scenery of these two streams, and 
of the antique city of St. Augustine. The additional ex- 
pense of this trip, to the sum above stated, would be about 
$27, including meals on the river steamers, making the round 
trip from Chicago to Cedar Key and return cost ^93. The 
distance thus traveled will be about 2,800 miles by rail, and 
about 950 miles by water — 475 on the St. John's and 450 on 
the Oclawaha. 

If a party of three or more go together, excursion rates 
may be procured that will materially reduce the rates of fare 
as above stated. 

As to the portions of the state where fish and game are 
most abundant, opinions of those who have spent much time 
in traveling over the state differ. Some claim that the Indian 
river country is the best; others that the Oclawaha and St. 
John's rivers flow through the finest game country, but, all 
things considered, I am of the opinion that for both fishing 
and shooting the lower portion of the Gulf coast is unsur- 
passed by any other part of the state. Besides, it is more 
easily accessible than other favorable resorts, and the accommo- 
dations that sportsmen may find there are better than those 
usually found, on the Indian river especially. Steamships run 



236 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

twice a week from Cedar Key to Manatee, and after reaching 
that point the sportsman cannot fail to find fish and game 
abundant at every turn. 

Then, as he proceeds south along Sarasota Bay, Charlotte 
Harbor, Oyster Bay, San Carlos Harbor, Cape Romano and 
Ten Thousand Isles, the field grows richer all the time. At 
Manatee a small schooner can be chartered to take a single 
person or party of five or ten to Mr. Webb's, a distance of 
forty-five miles, for ^to. Or, if notified by mail a few days 
in advance, Captain Will Webb will meet the steamer at 
Manatee with his new schooner, the "Vision," and take 
passengers to his father's house free of charge. Here first- 
class accommodations can be secured at five dollars a week, 
including use of small boats for fishing, jack-lights and spears 
for fire-fishing, etc. Will charters his schooner to parties at 
five dollars a day, including his services and those of two 
other men, and two small boats for running up small streams 
into the interior of the country. No better or pleasanter 
outfit than this for a coasting expedition could be imagined. 

The schooner is new, is thirty-six feet long, thirteen feet 
beam, has a capacity of nine tons, and' draws but two and a- 
half feet of water. It has sleeping accommodations for ten 
.persons, is strongly built and substantially, so as to be thor- 
oughly sea-worthy in any weather, and yet is of such light 
draft as to be able to ascend the larger streams and run into 
small bays and inlets where many vessels of less capacity 
could not go. By taking along a small supply of provisions, 
a party of five can live comfortably on this vessel for four to 
five dollars a week each. 

-^ Captain Will and his brother Jack, who always accom- 
panies him on these expeditions, are both competent guides 
and know every foot of the ground, so that no additional 
expense need be incurred in this direction. In a cruise of 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 237 

three to four weeks the entire coa:st can be thoroughly ex- 
plored, hunted and fished, from Webb's to the Florida reefs, 
at the extreme south end of the peninsula, including short 
trips up the Myakka, Caloosahatchie, Fahkahnatehee and other 
rivers. At Cape Romano, Fort Myers, Punta Rassa, Fort 
Poinsett and many other points along the coast, deer are 
abundant, and bears, panthers, wild cats and wolves are fre- 
quently met with. The fishing is superb all along the coast, 
and the naturalist may collect many rare and interesting 
icthyological, ornithological and conchological specimens 
not to be found elsewhere in the United States. 

A shot-gun and rifle will both be needed, thougn a 
cylinder-bore shot-gun, and supply of buck-shot cartridges in 
addition to the supply of small-shot may answer all purposes. 
The greater need of the rifle is for the larger game which 
frequently ofl"ers long range shots where a shot-gun is entirely 
useless, and if the sportsman be a clever rifle shot, he should 
always provide himself with both. 

A large supply of ammunition should be provided for 
each, for there is such a great variety and such countless 
numbers of birds and animals constantly presenting them- 
selves, that although many of them be not game, still the 
temptation to shoot them is so strong that few resist it. For 
instance, there are cranes, pelicans, cormorants, water 
turkeys, alligators, etc., offering shots at all ranges, and 
affording such fine opportunities for practice that any one is 
justifiable in improving these opportunities when not in 
localities where game is to be found. I estimate, from 
exi)erience and observation, that an enthusiastic sportsman 
will shoot away 300 shells in each week that he may spend in 
Florida, and if he be provided with rifle and Shot-gun both, 
perhaps an equal division of this number between the two 
would not be far from the proper figure. 



238 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

A liberal supply and good assortment of fishing tackle 
should be taken, and this of the best quality. The native Flo- 
ridian uses only a heavy hand-line and large, strong hook for 
his fishing, his motive being fish not sport ; and he will laugh 
at the sportsman who goes there from the North supplied with 
fine tackle. He will tell you that you will lose your fine lire, 
and perhaps your rod and reel, before you fish an hour ; that 
a twenty-pound red-fish, drum or grouper, or a hundred- 
pound jew-fish or shark will probably walk away with them 
before you have fairly commenced fishing. But he -is wel- 
come to his opinion and his heavy hand-line. I prefer my 
good, strong bamboo bass rod, my Meek & Milam reel, my 
fine-braided linen or sea-grass line, patent sinker and Lim- 
erick hook. There is a pleasure in fishing with fine tackle, 
even if you don't get a bite, and if you do get one there is so 
much more sport in handling your fish with your fine tackle 
than with your "main strength" tackle, that any true disciple 
of Izaak had rather catch one fish with the former than half a 
dozen with the latter. 

I grant that you will frequently lose a hook when a shark, 
jew-fish, taupon, or other «ea-monster takes hold of it, as 
they frequently do, but on the contrary you will take many a 
fine, sensitive, gamy fish that would be frightened away by 
your neighbor's clothes-line and awkward-looking slug of 
lead. 

Shark tackle is all well enough when you go fishing for 
sharks, but when fishing for game fish use fine tackle. 
Take with you then a good, strong but light and flexible bass 
or salmon rod, a supply of Bradford & Anthony's hard braid 
water-proof linen lines, a number 5 or 6 Milam reel, a supply 
of Limerick hooks, assorted sizes, from number 3-0 to number 
9-0, a lot of artificial minnows and spoons for trolling, a 
landing net, a gaff-hook, and you will be properly equipped 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 239 

in that line. A minnow seine would also be desirable, as live 
minnows are the best bait attainable for many of the best salt- 
water fish, and few people there have any better arrangement 
for catching minnows than with a "pin hook," which is de- 
cidedly slow. 

A supply of first-class shark tackle should by all means 
be taken along, for much exciting sport may be had hooking 
these and other monsters of the deep. About fifty feet of 
strong, half-inch rope, two feet of chain, such as is used for 
halter chain for horses, to go next the hook for a leader, if 
you please, and half a dozen large-sized shark hooks complete 
the list. 

These latter may not be found in Chicago but can be or- 
dered from the East. It is not advisable to depend upon get- 
ting anything needed for the trip after reaching Jacksonville or 
Cedar Key, for neither the goods nor the assortments kept 
there will be found at all satisfactory. A couple of spears, 
one large and heavy, suitable for shark, etc., and one smaller 
for other fish will also be found a good investment. Most 
residents and guides have these, but not in sufficient numbers 
to supply parties where several wish to use them at the same 
time. 

Each person or each party of two should take a small, light 
tent, capable of accommodating two for camping expeditions, 
and this should be provided with light muslin ends, thin 
enough to admit the air freely, but thick enough to exclude 
sand-flies and mosquitos. The ordinary musquito bar is 
useless in Florida, for the sand-flies, which are far more 
troublesome than the musquitoes, pass through it readily. 
Each person should take a good heavy blanket, and will find 
use for it almost any time in the year if camping. The cloth- 
ing should be strong, but light, so as not to be oppressive 
during the hot days that the visitor will experience, even in 



240 THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 

midwinter. A light rubber coat will be found an indispensa- 
ble necessity as a protection against the frequent rains and 
heavy dews when out at night. A rubber pillow will also 
add greatly to the comfort of the trip. Rubber boots are not 
needed. You can wade in the salt water all day and all 
night if need be, and experience no bad effects from it ; be- 
sides, the weather is so hot as to render rubber boots de- 
cidedly uncomfortable. The r>nly foot gear needed is a pair 
of cheap, heavy cow-hide shoes. They should be cheap, for 
the salt water will rot them out in a few weeks. Every one 
who goes to Florida has wet feet every day, and still, colds, 
sore throats, and the like are unknown there. The ' ' Crackers, ' ' 
who live on and near the coast, are in the water almost every 
day of their lives gathering oysters, fishing, lifting their 
boats over the shoals, etc., and yet they are uniformly healthy. 
Indeed, it is said that it is no uncommon thing to see barni- 
cles growing on their legs, so much of their time is spent in 
the water. 

It would be well to take along a few simple medicines, 
such as quinine, calomel, etc., to be used as occasion may 
require. The radical change in climate usually affects the 
health more or less. Any physician will tell you what 
would be most suitable in this line. 

Aside from the items mentioned above, but little baggage 
will be needed, and but little should be taken. Good clothes 
are not needed and will look out of place after you reach the 
thinly-settled districts. No books need be taken, for you will 
have neither time nor taste for reading, and they will only 
add to the bulk and weight of your luggage, unnecessarily. 
There are so many wonders and objects of interest in this 
marvelous region that you could not spare time to read an 
hour each week if you had a whole library at your disposal. 

As to the necessary expense of the trip, one hundred dol- 



THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 241 

lars will pay the railroad and steamboat fare for the round 
trip, including the run up the St. John's and Oclawaha rivers 
and to St. Augustine. This includes steamboat fare from 
Cedar Key to Manatee and return. Ten dollars per week 
will cover all necessary expenses while on the lower coast, and 
a much less sum — perhaps five dollars a week — will cover them 
if a party of three or more go together, so that for a trip of 
two months, including the time of going and coming, the 
necessary expense for one person alone can be limited to 
about one hundred and seventy-five dollars, and considerably 
less where several go together. 



16 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

RECOLLECTIONS OF BOYHOOD. 

BACK TO THE OLD HOME — THE BARRETT BOYS — THE OLD SCHOOL- 
HOUSE — HAIL, GENTLE ROBIN — THE OLD FENCE CORNER — THE 
CHURCHYARD — THE SNOW-BALL CONFLICTS, 

" I'll wander back, yes, back again, 
Where childhood's home may be, 
For memory in sweet refrain 
Still sings its praise to me." 

Man may roam wheresoever he will, and his absence be 
prolonged to whatever extent it may, yet the memory of the 
old homestead will always be cherished. The reflex of the 
scenes of childhood are indelibly stamped upon the human 
mind, and can never be effaced. In the midst of busy scenes, 
of exciting surroundings, when the mind is weighed down 
with the cares of business, how often does memory steal away 
from the harsh, practical present into the dreamy, poetical 
past, and recall the days of childhood, of boyhood, of youth. 
How whole years of that blissful period of life will pass in 
rapid review through the imagination, and how fervently do 
we sigh as we awaken from the delightful reverie : 

" Backward, turn backward, O Time, in thy flight, 
And make me a boy again, just for to-night." 

And yet when we realize that it cannot be so, that " the 
past is joined to the eternal past," we brush the tear from the 
furrowed cheek, and return to the realities of the hour. 

For nearly a quarter of a century since I left the old home, 
I have roamed through the world and battled with its stern 
realities. During that time I have seen, perhaps, as much of 

242 



MISCELLANEOUS. 243 

life as is usually given to men to see in the same period. 
Fortune has smiled and frowned upon me by turns, but even 
under the influence of her brightest smiles I have never for- 
gotten the humble home, the old log cot, wherein were spent 
as many happy days as were ever allotted to any human being 
in a like number of years, no matter with what luxuries he 
may have been surrounded. From the splendors of capitals, 
of fashionable salons ; frorn am^id brilliant circles of gay 
friends ; from the banquet table, my thoughts have oft turned 
toward the old, old homestead, and with the poet I have sung: 
" Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." 

I have often sighed for a look at the old home, the hills, 
the rocks, the trees, the little brook, and the many objects 
whose images are so indelibly stamped upon my memory, but 
never until now have my longings been gratified. 

After an absence of more than twenty years, I find myself 
standing on the platform at the railroad depot which is nearest 
to my old home. The train has moved away, and I turn to a 
stranger who stands near, and inquire for certain of my old 
friends and neighbors. To my great delight I learn that 
many of them still live in the neighborhood, and I start at 
once in seg,rch of them. I choose to go across fields and 
through woods, in order to examine well remembered objects 
and localities, and see if they still have the familiar look they 
had when last I saw them. 

I am told that about a mile from the station three of my 
old schoolmates, the ''Barrett boys," are living on adjoining 
farms, and thitherward I wend my way. First I find little 
Harry, the happy, genial lad of bygone days, and always one 
of the favorites of the school, with both the teacher and the 
pupils. Now he has grown to manhood, is a well-to-do 
farmer, married, and has several children growing up around 
him. But he is the same bright, cheerful, agreeable Harry 



244 MISCELLANEOUS. 

as of old. He told me of nearly all our old playmates; 
where they were, how they had succeeded or failed in life, 
etc. Our interview was intensely interesting to me, but 
could not be prolonged, for my time was limited. Next I 
sought Al and George, and after like pleasant chats with 
them, I continued my rambles. 

I directed my steps next toward the old schoolhouse, and 
in doing so passed over a piece of road that I had traveled 
hundreds of times before. It leads from my father's old 
farm to where a favorite uncle then lived, a distance of two 
miles. At that time it wound through a dense wood nearly 
the entire distance. Now this is nearly all cut away, and 
rich fields of grain are growing on the ground that was then 
shadowed by giant oaks. 

Here is the "big mound," but how much smaller it looks 
now than formerly. Then we thought it a mountain, and 
to climb to the top of it was considered a great feat. In- 
deed, it is a high hill, and from its top one may see into 
two or three adjoining counties ; but since I left here I have 
seen and ascended mountains so high, that, by their side, 
this looks like a mole-hill. 

I was frequently, sent on errands to my uncle's, and passed 

over the ground upon which I now stand alone. I can see 

myself now, , 

" In my mind's eye, Horatio," 

a little barefooted lad, with skin tanned to almost a coffee 
brown by the summer's sun; clad in a "hickory" shirt, a 
pair of blue deming pants, rolled up to the knee and held by 
one suspender ; a home-made straw hat, generally minus 
either a rim or crown, for I used it to carry stones in to 
throw at birds, to catch ball, or for any other purpose I hap- 
pened to want it for. 

I remember on one occasion I was walking leisurely along, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 245 

in a brown study about how I should slay the deer, bears, 
buffaloes, and other large animals when I got ''big." I was 
so absorbed in my reverie that I did not notice a hog that 
had his snout under the dry leaves, and was eating acorns 
just here, under this large oak. He did not see me until I 
was within a few feet of him, when he happened to raise his 
head. He was wild, and with a loud ''woo," broke away 
through the dry leaves at a rapid pace, making a great racket. 
I didn't wait to see what it was, but thinking it surely a bear, 
or some other wild animal, just in the act of springing upon 
me, I turned and fled, screaming for help at every jump, and 
ran until I was out of breath before I looked around to see 
how close it was to me. Then, when I found it was not fol- 
lowing me, I stopped and listened. I wondered what it was, 
and finally, after thinking the matter over a while, and call- 
ing to mind what kind of an animal I had often heard make 
such a noise as that, I concluded that I had made a fool of 
myself, and went on about my business. 

On another occasion as I was passing near the same place, 
I alarmed a flock of wild turkeys, and they flew into the trees. 
I had my pockets full of rocks as usual, and commenced 
throwing at them. After several misses, I happened to hit 
one on the neck and killed it. It was about two-thirds grown, 
and I carried it home in great glee. I have my doubts now 
about their having been "wild," sure enough, for there was a 
farm-house not far away where they may have belonged, but I 
was honest in my belief then that they were really wild, and 
so my conscience has never upbraided me for killing it. But 
wild turkeys don't generally sit and let a boy throw stones at 
them very long ; neither do tame turkeys usually take to trees 
when frightened, so it is still a question as to whether they 
were wild or not. 

How strangely familiar this old road looks! Here is a 



246 MISCELLANEOUS. 

large tract of the old forest that still stands in all its virgin 
grandeur. Here stand the great spreading oaks, the tall 
graceful maples, the sweet-scented lindens. Here still grow 
the dear old May-apples, whose thickly-spreading umbrellas 
cover large tracts of the ground. Here bloom the fragrant 
wild flowers just as of yore. All these have for these many 
years escaped the destroying power of the woodman's axe and 
the husbandman's plow. Here, in boyish glee, have I chased 
the pretty butterfly ; here I have gathered these wild-flowers, 
and here listened to the music of birds whose well-known 
voices greet my ears as I write these lines. 

Hail, gentle robin, brown thrush, grosbeak, bullfinch, 
oriole, taniger, bluebird — all friends of my boyhood days ! I 
greet you with all the warmth and fervor of a long unbroken 
friendship. Though separated from you many long years, I 
have never forgotten, never ceased to love you. Nay, gentle 
songsters, start not at sound of my voice or sight of my face, 
I would not for the world harm one of your beautiful feathers. 

Every bend and every straight reach in this old road I 
remember as though I had passsed over it but yesterday. 
Here is a level piece on top of the hill where in summer I 
seldom passed without seeing a partridge, or pheasant, as we 
called them, ''wallowing" in the dust. Sometimes there 
would be several of them, and if in the latter part of the 
summer or fall the mother and her brood were often seen. 
They would strut along the road in front of me, showing but 
little alarm, for they were seldom hunted in those days. Now 
they are not to be seen, and the neighbors tell me they have 
all been killed off" long ago ; that they are extinct so far as 
this locality is concerned. 

Here at the foot of the hill is a neighboring farm that my 
father rented one ye!ir. I remember that in the fall, when 
we were pasturing some young horses and cattle in one of the 



MISCELLANEOUS. 247 

fields, I found a nest of yellow-jackets near the fence at one 
side of the field. I would throw clubs at the nest until I got 
the occupants well stirred up, and then go and drive some of 
the colts or cattle over the nest. The yellow-jackets would 
of course get their work in lively, and then it was fun to see 
those animals run. I had a little dog that I didn't like very 
well, an ugly, mangy cur. I used to stir up the yellow- 
jackets, and then carry this dbg and throw him over the fence 
into the nest. He would make a bee-line for a spring about 
a hundred yards away, jump into the water and lie there until 
his persecutors had left him. But the poor animals soon 
learned to shun this particular fence corner, and after a day 
or two I couldn't get any of them near it. 

I was what the neighbors called a bad boy — not, I must 
contend, from any vicious motives, but from mere reckless- 
ness, thoughtlessness and love of fun. 

In my rambles through the woods and over the farm, I al- 
ways carried a bow and arrow, before I got large enough to 
be trusted with a gun. I acquired considerable skill in the 
use of the former, and used to make it warm for the squirrels, 
chipmunks, woodpeckers, etc. I was as fond of fishing then 
as now, and in order to procure my tackle used to dig gin- 
seng in these woods and sell it. It usually brought thirty 
cents a pound green, or sixty cents dry. I have dug and 
sold many a pound of it. After I commenced shooting, I 
used to buy my powder and shot in this way. 

Emerging at last from the woods, I reach the site of our 
old schoolhouse. Alas ! how changed is the scene now ! 
The schoolhouse — that dear old log-cabin, wherein I have 
spent so many happy days — is gone ! Not a vestige of it re- 
mains — not even the foundation-stones. I seek a history of 
its taking off, and from an old neighbor I learn that the logs 
of which it was built decayed and fell away, until it was no 



248 MISCELLANEOUS. 

longer safe to occupy it. It was about to fall down, and so 
the school-directors ordered it torn down. The foundation- 
stones were hauled away and used in the new schoolhouse, 
which was built a mile below. The fence, which inclosed 
my father's field near the schoolhouse, has been extended so 
as to take in the schoolhouse lot, and it has been broken up 
and farmed for several years past. The old oak-trees that 
shaded our playground have been cut down, and the stumps 
are decayed and gone. I cannot even locate definitely the 
boundaries of our old ball-ground, nor can I find any of the 
old landmarks that are so dear to my memory. Verily the 
'land of time has fallen heavily on this sacred spot. I un- 
cover my head as I gaze upon the wreck of the past, and 
through my blinding tears the familar faces of teachers and 
playmates rise up before me. 

Where are they now ? 

Some of them, as I have said, still live in the neighbor- 
hood; but others, alas ! are scattered to the four corners of 
the earth. 

" And some are in the churchyard laid !" 

And what a flood of tender memories comes with those 
faces ! Here I conned almost my first lessons in books. Here I 
received many wholesome lessons, many good impressions that 
have never been effaced from my memory. Here were scenes 
of childish glee and childish sorrow ; childish conquests and 
childish disappointments. How my boyish heart used to 
bound with delight, as, by spelling a hard word correctly, I 
was allowed to walk proudly to the head of. my class, '' turn- 
ing down" a dozen of my classmates who had missed the 
same word before it came to me. And, then, how I have 
bitten my lip in sorrow and shame, as I missed an easy word, 
and a rival has taken my place at the head. 

We had night spelling-schools in those days — not those 



MISCELLANEOUS. 249 

society spelling-bees that were the rage three or four years 
ago in the towns — but genuine old-fashioned contests in 
orthography. 

To the east and west of the schoolhouse are steep hills. 
Here in winter time we used to coast on sleds and Norwegian 
snow-shoes. We would go spinning down these hills, through 
the thick woods, at a speed that makes my head swim now to 
think of it. It is strange that some of us were not killed. I 
remember once two of the boys, Harry Barrett and Mark 
Ridenour, were sent to the spring at the foot of one of those 
hills for water. They each took a tin pail, both mounted one 
sled, and let go. Away they flew with the speed of the wind. 
When halfway down, Mark lost his hold, and fell off, rolling 
some distance in the hard-crusted snow. The sled struck a 
tree and threw Harry past a large stump, so close to it that 
one side of his face was scratched, and his shoulder badly 
bruised. Had his head struck the stump fairly it would 
undoubtedly have killed him. His water-pail was smashed 
flat in the melee. 

I was riding down one of these hills on my snow-shoes 
one day, and when I had reached a speed of about nine miles 
in three minutes, one of my shoes struck a grub, and went 
out from under me. I don't know how many somersaults I 
turned, nor how much of the distance I slid on my back, on 
all-fours, or otherwise, but I didn't stop until I reached the 
foot of the hill. I was badly cut and scratched by the heavy 
crust on the snow, and by contact with the brush, etc., but 
fortunately had received no more serious injuries. 

We played '' town-ball " and '* bull-pen " in those days. 
Town-ball resembles our modern base-ball in some respects, but 
was much more severe, as in order to put a man out we must 
hit him with the ball, instead of crossing him out or hitting 
the base as in base-ball. We used a hard ball, and occasion- 



250 MISCELLANEOUS. 

ally one of us would get knocked down when it happened to 
come in hot and hit us on the head. I have frequently worn 
black spots on various parts of my. body for two or three 
weeks that I got in this way. But fear of getting hit devel- 
oped great elasticity in our joints, and we became very 
" artful dodgers." 

We frequently had some terrific snowball combats when 
the snow became wet and heavy. When we commenced 
snowballing we meant business, and frequently got badly hurt 
in this way, too. I remember a remarkable shot I made with 
a snowball on one occasion. We had chosen sides, taken 
our ground, and deployed as skirmishers. After the fight had 
grown warm, I made a ball very hard, and threw it at one of 
the other boys. He was just making a large one, and was 
packing it very hard. He had it about completed when mine 
arrived, struck his squarely, as he was pressing it between his 
hands, and knocked it all into '^ pi." 

Such were some of our boyish sports. We never stopped 
to think of the danger we incurred, but only went in for fun, 
and we usually had it. 

From the schoolhouse site, I stroll across the old field 
adjoining, and which in fact now includes it. Even here I 
stop and ponder. I have plowed and hoed the corn, raked 
and bound the golden wheat and oats here, when there were 
perhaps fifty large stumps on each acre of the ground. Now 
there is not one. They, like many other of the old land- 
marks, have succumbed to the inevitable — they have decayed 
and disappeared, and the field now looks like a natural 
prairie. But here, at the lower end of the field, are at 
last some objects that are just as they were when I last saw 
them. They are those great ledges of solid limestone, that 
crop out of the hillsides and tower perpendicularly to heights 
of twenty, thirty, and even fifty feet. No, they have not 



MISCELLANEOUS. 251 

changed. True, they look not so large nor so high now as 
they appeared to my boyish vision, but that is because I have 
seen more of the world than I had then, not because they 
have grown less. They have withstood the storms of time, 
and will for ages yet to come without any material change. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE DAYS OF LONG AGO. 

MY DOG AND I — RING AND THE HOGS — WOODCHUCK HUNTING — OLD 
ring! "though lost to sight to memory dear" — ALL IS 
CHANGED — OLD MEMORIES CROWD UPON ME — THE OLD LANDMARKS 
GONE ! — THE OLD SPRING — THERE IS A TIME FOR TEARS. 

These rocks and hills used to be a great resort for the 
ground hog {Arctomys monax), or "woodchuck," as we then 
called it. I have killed large numbers of them here. I had 
a dog that was as fond of hunting as I was. He would 
'' tree " them, and I always went to him when I heard him 
bark, regardless of distance, state of the weather, or any other 
obstacle. They generally took shelter in the crevices and 
fissures of these rocks, or in hollow trees or logs. My favorite 
method of capturing them was to take a piece of stiong cord, 
and form a loop on the end of a pole. Then running this 
pole into the hole where the animal was, I would punch him 
with it until he got mad, and began to bite at it. When I 
got a " bite " I would pull just as in fishing, and very soon 
would succeed in catching the loop of string around his front 
upper teeth, when I had only to haul away until I landed him 
at my feet, where my dog always stood ready to clinch him. 
Ring was a small, light-built dog, about one-fourth bull, and 
the balance — just dog. He didn't weigh over twenty pounds, 
but was a wonderful specimen of pluck. So is an old male 
ground-hog. We used to have some wonderful figlits. We 
frequently caught ground-hogs as heavy as Ring was, and I 
I have often seen a fight last half-an-hour before the ground 
hog would succumb to the chewing and shaking that the little 

252 



MISCELLANEOUS. 253 

mongrel gave him. Sometimes the ground-hog would get the 
dog by the lip, the cheek, the ear, or jaw, and hang there 
until nearly every bone in his body was chewed up before he 
would let go. Sometimes the dog would be on top and 
sometimes the ground-hog, and when the fight was over the 
ground for a space a rod square would be strewn with blood 
and hair. It was rough on both the animals, but fun for the 
boys, besides, I knew it would be the " making of the pup," 
so I always let them fight it out to the death. The boys used 
to gather in from the whole neighborhood on Sunda to go 
out and have a woodchuck hunt. 

Here, as I look around, I can find several of the fissures in 
the rocks from which I have pulled my victims, and I fancy 
I can almost see traces on the ground yet of some of these 
fights. Just here by this ravine used to lie a large hollow log, 
from which I have dragged several of them at different times; 
but it has rotted down, and it is only by the closest scrutiny 
that I can find traces of the bed of old decayed wood, where 
it once rested. 

And poor old Ring ! Dear, faithful old companion of 

my boyhood — where art thou now? Oh, thou hast passed 

away long years ago, and I trust, to the happy hunting 

ground. Couldst thou see the bitter tears that course down 

my cheeks as I write these lines, thou wouldst know that thou 

art still 

" Though lost to sight, 
To memory dear." 

And now I come at last to the old house, the old home- 
stead, 

" The little old log cabin by the lane." 

But alas ! how changed it and all its surroundings ! True, 
the house itself still stands, but it looks not as it did when 
last I saw it. The logs are far gone with decay, and it, too, 



254 MISCELLANEOUS. 

must soon yield to the ravages of time. The old barn is 
gone, the granary is gone, the shop is gone, the spring-house 
is no more, and I learn on inquiry they all rotted down long 
ago. But the spring, that clear, bubbling fountain, is still 
there. It looks just as it did, I lift a cup of its pure liquid 
to my lips, and it is as cooling, as refreshing, as welcome to 
my taste as of yore. Never did the oldest Maraschino, or 
the rarest Cognac taste half so good as does this sparkling 
fluid. 

I approach the house, and am met at the door by a strange 
lady. I announce myself. She receives me politely; says 
she has heard my name, has heard her grandmother speak of 
my mother, but she herself was but a child when we left the 
country, and never saw any of us. The interior of the house 
shows as great a change as the exterior. True, it is neat and 
clean — the mistress is a tidy housekeeper — but the windows 
and doors have been changed, and, worst of all, the old fire- 
place, the dearest relic of all, is no more. It has been bricked 
up, and near its place stands a modern heating-stove. 

What a train of memories cluster around that dear old fire- 
place ! Here, during the long winter evenings, we gathered 
around it, and by its cheerful light and genial warmth, 
conned our lessons for the morrow, or perused an interesting 
book, or the weekly newspaper. Here I first read Irving' s 
^' Life of Washington," the " History of the American Revo- 
lution," the ''Life of Daniel Boone," and many other works 
that made deep and lasting impressions on my mind, and 
whose teachings I shall never forget. Here, when some of 
the neighbors came in to spend the evening, we used to sit and 
crack nuts, and listen to great hunting yarns and Indian 
stories, which my father and some of our neighbors were fond 
of spinning. I have sat and listened to these harrowing 
tales until my hair would stand on end, and then it invariably 



MISCELLANEOUS. 255 

happened that my mother Avould want a pail ot water from 
the spring, or an arm-load of woud. I was alwa}s ordered 
to bring it, and, of course, being ashamed to confess that I 
was ''afraid," would go without a word of objection. Al- 
though the spring and wood-pile were not more than three 
rods from the door, I always imagined, especially if the night 
was very dark, that one of the bears, panthers, wolves or 
painted savages, of which I had been hearing so much, was 
at my heels ready to spring upon me ^ and you may rest as- 
sured that I didn't loiter much by the wayside. I only made 
about three steps in going to and returning from the spring. 
My mother used to compliment me on making the trip so 
quickly, but she never knew why I did it. 

I look about the grounds. Here is where the old granary 
stood. I remember the woodpeckers used to come here in 
large numbers during the winter season to help themselves to 
the corn. I used to bait a fish-hook with a grain of corn, 
hang it near the granary, and catch a woodpecker as we do 
a fish. I should consider this cruel sport now, but didn't 
know any better in those days, until my mother caught me at 
it, told me it was wrong, and forbade me to do it any 
more. I afterward learned to shoot them with the old family 
rifle, which measured ''six feet in the barrel." I shot it 
several years before I was tall enough to load it, and always 
had to get an older brother or my father to load it for me. 

Here, in the yard, just above the house — I can locate 
the spot within a foot — is where I once dug a "den" for 
a young pet "woodchuck," and turned a box over him to 
keep him safe. But he dug out the first night, and I never 
saw him again, unless Ring and I killed him after he grew 
up, and then I didn't recognize him. 

And here on the hillside, about two hundred yards from 
the house, in a thicket of brush, is where I once killed eleven 



256 MISCELLANEOUS. 

quails at one shot, with a neighbor's old single-barreled shot 
gun. It was in the winter. I tracked them some distance 
on the snow, and just at dusk found them huddled in a bunch 
under an old log that laid up some distance from the ground. 
They were bunched so closely that I could have covered 
them with my hat, and a good aim at about twenty yards left 
but a small chance for the poor little fellows. Only two of 
them escaped. I should blush to do so mean a thing now, 
but it was different then. I knew no better. I had not then 
been educated in the ethics of the field, and thought I had 
made a wonderful shot. I boasted of it for weeks and 
months afterward. I presume that many of my brother 
sportsmen of to-day have made such shots when they were 
boys. Probably they would not like to confess it now, but I 
don't know that I feel ashamed of it. I mention it to show 
the advancement that we have made through the influence of 
the wholesome teaching that we get from such sources as the 
American Field. There are hundreds of young clodhoppers 
to-day, such as I was then, that do such potting every chance 
they get, and don't know there is any harm in it. But I 
have digressed from my subject. 

Here, on the opposite side of the hill is where the old 
sugar camp used to be ; but all those old maples from which 
used to flow such generous quantities of the rich saccharine 
fluid, have long ago been cut down, and the land whereon 
they stood is now a green field. I look in vain for a trace of 
the old furnace, and the cabin that stood in front of it, but 
not a vestige of either remain. But I see a plowman not far 
away; I will ask him. Yes, he points out a small pile of 
stones near the middle of the field, which he says marks the 
place where the furnace stood. 

''We tore it down when we cleared this piece," he said. 

I approached the spot he indicated, and found a few 



MISCELLANEOUS. 257 

Stones that once formed part of the old furnace. I stood 
over them and ruminated. I had spent many happy hours 
on that spot. We used to gather in several barrels of sap 
during the day, boil it down, and frequently as the evening 
approached on which we were to "sugar off," we invited the 
boys and girls of the neighborhood to come in and join us in 
a candy-pulling. Those were jolly parties that assembled on 
such occasions, and we used to make the old woods ring 
with our mirth and song. Oh, what a delicious bon bon is a 
dish of warm maple wax, pure and«fresh from the woods ! I 
can taste it now, in imagination. Reader, if you have never 
tried it in this way, if you have never stood around the large, 
cheerful furnace and lifted the bubbling mass from the kettle 
onto your plate of snow or ice, if your knowledge of maple 
sugar is confined to to the adulterated stuff you buy of the 
grocer, and that which is dished up at church festivals, you 
can have no conception of the sweet recollections that crowd 
through my brain, as I stand over this sacred pile. 

" How dear to my heart are the sweets of my childhood, 
When fond recollection presents them to view." 

I remember once we had collected several barrels of sap 
during the day, and I told my father and older brothers that 
I would come back that night after supper and boil it down. 
They said it was not necessary, that we could easily boil it 
down the next morning before we should need the barrels ; 
but I insisted, so they told me to do as I liked. After supper 
I took a newspaper and went to the camp. I put in a boom- 
ing fire, filled up the kettles, and sat down in the cabin to 
read by the light of the fire. Almost the first lines I read 
were an account of a man in an adjoining county having 
killed a large catamount that measured seven feet from tip to 
tip. I dropped the paper and began to peer out into the 
17 



258 MISCELLANEOUS. 

darkness. I fancied I could see a pair of large fiery eyes 
glaring upon me, and hear the dry leaves rustle, as a 
monster catamount, probably the mate to the one that had 
just been killed, crawled stealthily toward me. I thought of 
all the harrowing stories I had heard and read, of terrible en- 
counters with these monsters ; how people had been eaten up 
by them, and only a boot or a hat had been left to tell their 
fate. I sprang to the furnace, pulled all the fire out, threw the 
burning brands into a hole near by, and lit out for home at a 
rate ^that would make Maud S. envious. Every few seconds 
I looked back over my shoulder to see if the catamount was 
coming, and imagined that I was only saving my life by run- 
ning faster than he could. When I arrived at the house I 
stopped outside the door until I had recovered my breath 
and cooled off. When I went in the folks inquired why I had 
come-home so early; why I didn't stay and boil down the 
sap, as I had set out to do. 

''Well," I said, ''it was kind of lonesome out there all 
alone, and I concluded to leave it till morning." My good 
mother said she thought that was a wise conclusion, and this 
is the first time I ever confessed the true cause of my going 
home so early that night. 

I return to the house, and again slake my thirst at the 
cool spring. Just below the spring stood the old milk-house, 
through which flowed the cool water from the spring. What 
delicious cool milk, and hard, yellow butter used to stand in 
this cool retreat. I remember once I caught a neighbor's dog 
in the milk-house. He had pulled the pin out of the door- 
post, and opened the door with his paw. I discovered him 
just as he entered, before he had time to do any damage ; but 
he had gone there with mischievous intent. Besides, I had a 
grudge against him, for once when I had gone to his master's 
house he had bitten me. Now I had him where I wanted 



MISCELLANEOUS. 259 

him, and I resolved to get even with him before I let him 
out. I stepped to the clump of water-hazels that stood a few 
feet away, and cut two large, heavy branches, about five or six 
feet long. I trimmed them up, returned to the milk-house, 
and went to work on that dog, and whipped him until my 
vengeance was thoroughly appeased. I then released him and 
sent him home, a wiser and a better dog. 

On the hillside, a short distance from the house, i find the 
remains of an old oak stump, in which I once bored a hole 
and put a lajge charge of powder. It was on the morning of 
the Fourth of July, and when I "touched it off" at daylight 
the report woke all the neighbors within a radius of three 
miles. 

In the piece of woods just south of the house I once 
pushed down a tall stump or trunk of a decayed tree, in 
which was a flying-squirrel's nest. The mother flew to a tree 
near by as the stump fell, and so escaped, but the young ones, 
although nearly full-grown, were not strong enough to fly. I 
caught up one of them, but no sooner had I done so than it 
caught my thumb just near the root of the nail, and inserted 
its sharp, cutting front teeth to the bone, above and below. 
I had to choke him off with the other hand, and after that I 
gave flying-squirrels a wide berth. On another occasion, 
however, I caught a live ground-squirrel, and he bit a finger 
nearly off before I succeeded in choking him to death. 

On a farm adjoining ours there stood an old deserted log 
cabin. I was roaming around it one day to see what I could 
find, when, looking through a large crack in the floor, I saw 
a ground-hog busily engaged in burrowing in the ground. I 
went out to the fence, got a large sliver off a rail and stabbed 
him with it so vigorously that I succeeded in killing him 
before he could get out of my reach. 

I continued my rambles through the neighborhood, visiting 



260 MISCELLANEOUS. 

old friends, schoolmates and acquaintances, until two days 
passed rapidly away. Then I returned to the station to take 
the train for home — my present home. But as I pass by the 
old farm, I pause once more to take a last fond look at those 
scenes so dear to me. Ah! when shall I see them again? 
Perhaps never. Then farewell, dear, dear old home, fare- 
well ! Thou art no longer my home ; I am a stranger here 
now, an intruder. There is no welcome for me. Tears dim 
my eyes as I gaze o'er the green fields, and in my heart, old 
home, thy memory shall ever be kept as green as are thy hills 
and valleys now. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

TROUTING ON THE NAMECAGON. 

MR. T. S. POWERS A TYPICAL SPORTSxMAN — THE VILLAGE OF CABLE — 
OUT IN THE STREAM — MULTITUDES OF TROUT — MOSQUITO CREEK. 

He greedily sucks in the twining bait, 
And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat. 

Now, happy fisherman, now twitch the line! 
How the rod bends ! Behold the prize is thine ! 

I WAS a passenger on a north-bound train on the North 
Wisconsin railroad one day near the last of May, and as the 
train stopped at a small station away up in the great pine 
woods, I saw half-a-dozen sportsmen, equipped with fishing 
tackle and camping outfit, enter the smoking-car. I scanned 
their sun-browned countenances to see if I might recognize 
any of them, for I feel an instinctive affinity for any man 
whom I see with a fishing-rod or gun in his hand. I was 
rewarded and delighted to see in the front rank of the party 
the genial face of that typical sportsman and prince of good 
fellows, Mr. T. S. Powers, of Tomah, Wis. He introduced 
me to his friends, Messrs. M. A. Thayer and his son Charlie, 
D. D. Cheeney, Henry Foster and Mr. Guell, all of Sparta ; 
R. P. Hitchcock, of Tomah, and Leroy Wheaton, of Hutch- 
inson. All hands gave me a pressing invitation to join them, 
and as I was on the same errand as they were, I was only too 
glad to do so. 

Our destination was the Namecagon river, one of the 
tributaries of the St. Croix. The railroad crosses the Name- 
cagon three times, and as we looked at its clear swift waters 
and foaming rapids from the car windows, we felt a;sured of 

261 



262 MISCELLANEOUS. 

glorious sport on the morrow. We arrived at the village of 
Cable, in Bayfield county, Wis., at eight o'clock. After 
supper we gathered in the sitting-room of the hotel and were 
entertained for an hour by ''Doctor" Weir, one of the 
bright lights of the town, with some interesting fish stories. 

He informed us that we were sure to have magnificent 
sport. He said the Namecagon was literally full of trout, 
and that many of them were of immense size. He said we 
were not likely to catch one of less than half a pound weight 
and that two and three pounders were common ; that several 
parties had been out lately and each man had caught on an 
average a hundred pounds of trout per day ; that if these 
trout were too large, and if we preferred smaller ones, there 
were plenty of small brooks in the vicinity, tributaries of the 
river, where we could catch an average of three hundred per 
day to the man that would only weigh from a quarter to 
half a pound each. 

He said the lakes in the neighborhood were also alive 
with fish of various kinds. That at Long lake, two miles 
north, we would catch bass weighing from four to eight 
pounds as a steady thing ; that a day's string would average 
six pounds ; that we would catch pickerel weighing twenty to 
thirty pounds each ; of course we would, for other people 
were doing so every day. One of the boys ventured to 
remark that he thought the Doctor was giving us taffy. But 
the Doctor affirmed on his professional honor that every word 
was true as gospel. 

" Why," said he, " we have eaten fresh fish here until we 
are all tired of them ; occasionally one of the boarders con- 
cludes that he would like a mess of fish. He goes out to the 
lake, and in an hour returns with a coffee sack full of black 
bass, but on his arrival finds that about fifteen or sixteen of 
the other boarders have been out fishing just for fun and each 



MISCELLANEOUS. 263 

one has brought in a coffee sack full. Then they all feel dis- 
couraged and the fish are dumped into the alley. ' ' 

*'Why," continued our orator, ''one day last winter a 
man drove down to one of our small lakes to water his horse. 
He cut a hole in the ice, but the bullheads came up so fast 
that his horses couldn't drink, so he took a wooden pail and 
went to bailing them out. He worked away until he dipped 
out four barrels, and still they were just as thick in the hole as 
when he commenced, so he got discouraged and drove away. 
Oh, you needn't wink. It's a fact, for I went down and saw 
the pile of bullheads on the ice myself. Occasionally the 
mill boarding-house, down on Clear lake, wants a mess of 
fish for breakfast. Well, they just send a man down to the 
lake with a team. He takes out the tail-gate and backs his 
wagon into the lake till the box is full of bass, then puts in 
the tail-gate again and drives up to the house. It's a fact. 
They're so thick in the lake they can't get out of the way, 
and you dip them up whenever you dip up water." 

At this stage of the game somebody moved to adjourn, 
and we all went to bed. The next morning John O'Brien 
loaded our traps into his wagon, took us out to the '^Name- 
cagon river, two miles from town, and we made our camp on 
a high bank overlooking a bend in the river. It was near 
noon when the majority of the party got the camp established 
and ready for business. Mr. Thayer and his son, Mr. 
Cheeney and myself, went up the river about two miles above 
camp, Mr. Foster and Mr. Hitchcock about a mile above, 
and Mr. Powers went below. 

The stream at this point is from thirty to fifty yards wide 
and from one to three feet deep in general, though there are 
many deep holes in it. I speak of it as in the spring stage of 
water. In midsummer it is considerably lower. It is very 
swift, and there are rapids that will tax all your strength and 



264 MISCELLANEOUS. 

nerve to wade them down stream at this stage. To wade 
them up stream is impossible. And in wading down, if you 
loose your footing you will go to the foot of the rapids ere 
you can possibly regain it. 

We who were disposed to wade went at once into the 
middle of the stream, the others fished from the bank. The 
former is much the pleasanter method of fishing this stream. 
We waded out until clear of all brush, and here we could 
whip and cast to our hearts' content. After fishing one riffle, 
eddy or rapid until we felt that we had all we could get out 
of it, we would pass on to the next. 

Occasionally you see a large rock in the middle of the 
stream around which the raging torrent foams and surges. 
Just below it is a deep hole, where you feel sure there is a 
large, wary old trout lying in weight for his prey. You feel 
that it will not do to approach too near him, for he will take 
fright and bid you a hasty good-bye. So you stop, perhaps 
fifty feet above him, drop your fly on the water, reel out and 
let the current take it down until it passes through the foam- 
ing crest, past the breaker, and just as it enters the eddy 
there is a sudden commotion in the angry flood, a flash of 
light, a show of crimson and gold, a tug at the line, a sudden 
stroke of the rod, and he is fast ! He dives under the rock, 
but quick as thought you swing him out away from that 
danger. Then he makes a rush for a clump of driftwood 
near the bank. As you give him the butt of the rod, and 
check his mad career, he makes a beautiful break, and shows 
you his rich colors glistening in the bright sunlight. 

Your heart throbs with delight as you see his size and feel 
his weight upon the line. But you keep perfectly cool; 
checking him at every turn, and reeling in whenever he gives 
you a foot of line, until after a liard fight he succumbs to his 
late, and you gently lift him into your basket. He is one of 



MISCELLANEOUS. 265 

those fine, dark specimens that are only found in the larger 
streams and lakes, and his rounded sides show that he has 
been well fed. 

You pass on down to where you see a large body of drift- 
wood, near the right bank, and from the quiet repose which 
the water bears there you know it is deep under that drift. 
You stop fifty to a hundred feet above it, and repeat the 
tactics described above. As regularly as the fly reaches 
within a few feet of the drift you get a rise, until you take 
out perhaps half-a-dozen fine fellows, when the others, if 
there are others there, begin to ''smell a mice," and you 
pass on. 

Thus the time passed with us, and thus the sport was 
varied, until we had covered over two miles and arrived at 
camp at five o'clock in the evening, hungry enough to eat the 
largest trout in the river. On counting up our strings we 
found that they ran from fourteen to twenty-five to each man, 
aggregating one hundred and sixty. The smallest one in the 
lot weighed a quarter of a pound and the largest a pound, 
the aggregate weight being over fifty pounds. 

That night a heavy rain came on and raised the stream 
nearly a foot, so that our sport was not so good on the fol- 
lowing day, though we succeeded in taking ninety-three. 
The rain continued at intervals during the day, and as the 
river was likely to remain swollen for several days, we decided 
to remove over to Long lake and take a turn at the bass. The 
Namecagon river is certainly one of the finest trout streams 
in the Northwest. We saw and heard enough to convince us 
that there are no small trout in it. The large ones drive the 
small ones out into the small streams. In our two days' fish- 
ing we did not catch a single fingerling — nothing that would 
weigh less than a quarter of a pound, and we heard similar 
reports from several other parties who were fishing at the 



266 MISCELLANEOUS. 

same time we were, and had fished it before. Then it bears 
a great many very large ones. We caught several weighing 
from twelve ounces to a pound, and some of the other parties 
caught trout while we were there weighing over a pound. 

The stream heads in Namecagon lake, eight miles east of 
the village of Cable. This lake no doubt bears some very 
large trout, though I failed to learn that any have ever been 
taken out of it. The stream can be fished either from the 
banks, by boat, or by wading, from this lake down to the 
mouth of Musquito creek, a distance of perhaps fifty miles, 
and they told us that the fishing is as good the entire distance 
as it was where we fished. As already stated, it is broad, 
shallow and swift — being from thirty to fifty yards wide — 
and there is no brush to bother any one who wades or fishes 
from a boat. To launch a boat or canoe in the lake and then 
fish down to Mosquito creek, or to one of the several railroad 
crossmgs where you could board the train, would make a 
delightful voyage and furnish fine sport. 

These trout take almost any kind of a fly or bait eagerly. 
Live minnows would be the most killing bait for the larger 
trout. I had excellent sport with an artificial minnow. We 
also caught several fine ones with live frogs. 

To reach this stream you should take the St. Paul train on 
the Northwestern road to Hudson, and from there go north 
on the North Wisconsin division of the Chicago, St. Paul, 
Minneapolis & Omaha railroad to Cable. Teams, boats and 
guides can be had at that point at reasonable rates. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

PIKE AND BASS FISHING ON LONG LAKE. 

AN afternoon's CATCH, l8o POUNDS OF FISH ! — LEROY AND THE POL- 
LYWOGS TOP THE NARROWS — HUNTING A LOON — " YOU'VE GOT A 
WHALE, sure" — AN ENORMOUS PICKEREL — THREE DAYS' CATCH, 
620 POUNDS — HOME AGAIN. 

We landed at the foot of Long lake about noon, made 
camp, and prepared for business. We launched the boat we 
took with us, and procured two others that we found on the 
lake. The majority of the party disposed themselves in the 
boats for trolling, the others still-fished from logs and fallen 
trees along the shore. I employed John Moulton, a young 
man who lives on the bank of the lake, to row for me, and 
Mr. Powers and myself started for the Narrows, a point 
where the best fishing is said to be. 

But we didn't have to wait to reach the Narrows to find 
good sport. We had gone but a few strokes from camp when 
the trouble began. Our oarsman kept near the shore, and 
from almost every submerged log or tree top, of which there 
are a great many all along the shores, there came a bass that 
went for one or the other of our spoons, and there was but 
little time during the afternoon that one of us was not en- 
gaged in reeling in a fish. The bass were of the small 
mouthed variety, Micropierus salmoides. They are very 
vigorous in this high northern latitude, and furnish magnifi- 
cent sport. As we passed an island about three miles from 
camp, Mr. Powers hooked a pike that weighed ten and three- 
quarters pounds, and as we returned later in the evening, he 
took another from the same hole, weighing eleven and one- 

207 



268 MISCELLANEOUS. 

quarter pounds. We returned to camp at six o'clock, having 
had all the sport we wanted for one day. Our friends in the 
other two boats, and those who were fishing from the shore, 
all brought in fine strings of bass. The afternoon's catch 
weighed in the aggregate i8o pounds. 

The second day being Sunday, we concluded to make a 
holiday of it, and go fishing, for a change. Mr. Thayer, his 
son Charlie and Leroy Wheaton in one boat, and Moulton 
and myself in the other, pulled up the east shore of the lake 
about a mile, to where a small lake is connected with the 
main one by a narrow channel. Here we landed, and went 
into the small lake for the purpose of procuring bait. We 
dipped up a good lot of minnows, and got a few frogs and 
clams. 

To see Leroy catch poUywogs, and to hear the droll re- 
marks he made about them, was more fun than fishing, and I 
spent an hour watching and listening. He is an original char- 
acter, and furnished fun for the whole camp all the time we 
were out. He is one of the most useful men in camp, or on 
any hunting or fishing expedition, that I have ever met. He 
is large and muscular, good natured, willing, and anxious to 
please and accommodate every one with whom he comes in 
contact. He will pull on a pair of oars all day, and come into 
camp at night as full of fun and frolic as when he started out 
in the morning. He is one of the most skillful deer hunters in 
the state, and the crack of his Winchester sounds the funeral 
knell of almost every deer that exposes itself to his deadly 
aim. A gentleman who hunts a great deal with him tells 
me that he has, on two different occasions, seen him jump 
two deer together in the thick woods, and kill both of them 
before they could get out of reach. In many respects he is 
a second edition of old Leatherstocking. 

The small lake where we got our bait was also alive with 



MISCELLANEOUS. 269 

bass, Mr. Thayer and Charlie waded in a few steps from the 
shore, and with the pollywogs tliat Leroy furnished them, 
caught bass almost as fast as they could handle them. But 
after watching the sport for a while, Moulton and I pulled out 
on the main lake again. We tied up in several favorable 
looking places, and tried still fishmg, but did not have as 
good success as in trolling. We could catch small rock bass, 
and perch by the dozen, but we were loaded for larger game 
than these, and didn't care to waste time with them, so we 
returned to our spoon victuals. 

We went up to the Narrows, about four miles from camp, and 
then returned, having taken as many bass as we cared for, and 
had all the sport we wanted. Several of them were very fine 
ones — weighing three to three and a-half pounds each, and 
one weighing four pounds. The other members of the party 
had equally fine sport, and some of them showed larger strings 
than I did. Mr. Powers "took the cake" for this day's 
work by scoring another pike that weighed exactly . twenty 
pounds, and measured forty-three and a-half inches in length. 
We skinned this fish, and Mr. Powers has since had him 
mounted. The total catch for the day weighed two hundred 
and ten pounds. 

The next morning when we awoke it was raining heavily. 
The clouds were thick, low, and almost black, and the rain 
came down in a steady, settled manner, which indicated that it 
had, set in for all day. It afforded a gloomy outlook for the 
day's sport. The majority of the party avowed their deter- 
mination to stay in camp, but two or three of the more 
entliusiastic said they were not afraid of a little water, applied 
externally, and they would go out. They said they only 
objected to water when it became necessary to take it in- 
ternally. 

While we were rigging our tackle, and breakfast was in 



270 MISCELLANEOUS. 

course of preparation, a loon made its appearance on the lake 
a short distance from camp. I asked Leroy if he would go 
with me and give the loon a chase. With his usual vim he 
answered " You bet." The other boys laughed at us, said we 
were "loony," that we could never kill him in the world, 
etc.; but I had hunted loons before, and knew that they were 
mistaken. 

I took my little Stevens pocket rifle (which I always cairy 
with me when fishing), Leroy took the oars, and we pulled out 
toward the loon. When we got within about fifty yards of 
him, he dove. We pulled in the direction he took, and when 
he rose I fired at him. He went down again, and when he 
reappeared I shot at him again ; the bullets in each case 
cutting very close to his neck. The third time he came up 
he was not more than forty yards from us. I drew another 
bead on him, and by a lucky shot killed him — the bullet pass- 
ing through his neck about an inch below the occipital joint. 
We returned to camp with our prize, and received the hearty 
congratulations of our friends on our success. The bird was 
one of the finest specimens I have ever seen, the plumage 
being unusually full and beautiful. I brought the skin home, 
and have had it mounted. 

Breakfast over, we donned our rubber suits and pulled out 
up the lake. The rain still fell in torrents, accompanied by 
a cold wind. , Our friends told us the fish would not bite in 
such weather ; and when we had rowed three miles without 
getting a strike, we began to think their predictions would 
prove true, and that we should have to return to camp with — 
"fisherman's luck." 

But we kept our courage up, by hoping that it would clear 
up later in the day, and that we should yet have some good 
sport. Finally, as we passed the island, our two boats not 
more than twenty yards apart, my oarsman said : 



MISCELLANEOUS. 271 

'' Mr. Powers has got a fish." 

^' So have I," I said, for at that moment I felt a terrific 
surge at my line, and as I commenced to reel in, my fish 
started for the middle of the lake. I knew at once that I had 
a very large fish, and I told John to throw the boat out away 
from the shore, in order to keep him clear of snags. A few 
strokes of the oars set us out of all danger, and then the fun 
commenced. At first he fought deep. I kept a taut line on 
him, and whenever he slackened on it, I reeled in. He would 
come a few feet toward the boat, then turn, and with the 
speed almost of lightning take out a hundred or two hundred 
feet of line ; and though I kept the heavy drag on and 
thumbed the reel besides, it seemed mere play for him to run 
with it. Finally he made a partial break, showing only his 
broad, forked tail. Mr. Powers asked me what I had. 

I told him I thought it was a bass, but if so it w.as a very 
large one. Just then, the captive made a fearful Itmge into 
the air, clearing the water by fully four feet, and making a 
desperate effort to shake the hook out of his mouth. He 
showed his monster form to our eager eyes but a moment, and 
then went down again. 

^' Yes," said Powers, ''You've got a bass, in your mind. 
You've got a whale there, and you want to be very careful 
that you don't lose him." 

All this time the great monster kept up the fight, running, 
leaping, diving straight down, down, down, until he would 
take out sixty or seventy feet of line and perhaps lie 
directly under the boat. Then he would start for the shore 
again, as if bound to snag the line ; but the drag, my thumb, 
and the butt of the rod, would make him break again and 
change his course. 

Talk about gamy fish ! 

Why, reader, if you could imagine what it would be to 



2*72 MISCELLANEOUS. 

lasso an old she-tiger in one of her native jungles, you can 
form some idea of what it is to hook one of these fish. But 
no pen can describe the scene. You must catch one of them 
yourself before you can know what magnificent sport it is. 
Suffice it to say, that after a hard fight of three-quarters of an 
hour, I so far exhausted him as to bring him alongside the 
boat, when Mr. Powers, who had meantime boarded my 
boat, lifted him in with the gaff- hook. He proved to be one 
of the same species as the others, the great northern pike, 
esox lucioides (Agassiz), usually, but incorrectly, termed pick- 
erel. He measured forty-six inches in length, seven and a 
half in depth, and four and three-quarters in breadth. I sat 
there and admired him for some minutes before I was ready 
to move. I felt all the prouder of my prize for the reason 
that I had killed him on light tackle ; my outfit being a 
twelve ounce bamboo bass rod, a number six Milam reel, a 
number four braided linen line, and a number five spoon. 

Here was glory enough for one day. I had taken the 
largest fish that has ever yet been taken from this lake, so far 
as known to the settlers in the vicinity, the largest caught 
previous to our visit having weighed eighteen and three-quar- 
ter pounds, and Powers' best one, twenty pounds, and as the 
rain continued to fall in an almost unbroken sheet, we turned 
our bow toward camp. Mr. Powers landed another pike 
while I was playing mine that weighed eighteen pounds. 
I'he two struck within a few seconds of each other, for the 
instant I saw him commence to haul in on his line I felt the 
first surge at mine. The boats were opposite each other, and, 
as stated before, only a few yards apart. 

Powers, Thayer and Leroy staid out until three o'clock in 
the afternoon and returned with ten of these large pike, mak- 
ing fifteen in all that we had caught in the two days, the 
smallest of which weighed ten pounds. They also brought in 



MISCELLANEOUS. 273 

a fine string of bass, making the day's catch weigh in all 230 
pounds, and the grand total for the three days 620 pounds. 

These pike differ as widely from our common pike, both in 
appearance and habits, as do the muscalonge. In shape and 
gaminess they closely resemble the latter, though the mark- 
ings are entirely different. The great Northern pike is one of 
the most gamy of all our fresh-water fishes. He fights like a 
wild cat from the time he is hooked until he is landed, or 
escapes, while the common pike makes a spurt or two when 
first hooked, and then allows you to drag him in as you 
would a chunk of wood. 

This Long lake is a very paradise for the disciples of Wal- 
ton. It is about seven miles long, and from a quarter to a 
mile wide; has high, bold, stony, and in many places bluffy 
banks, and the water is so pure and clear that you may see a 
small pebble at a depth of twenty feet or more. All around 
the shores are old logs and trees that have fallen into the 
water and sunk, making capital feeding and hiding grounds 
for large fish. It has never been fished but a very little. Up 
to last summer, Ashland, thirty-five miles distant, was the 
nearest point to it, and from that point there was no road, and 
no means of reaching it, except on foot. 

Last fall the North Wisconsin railroad was completed to 
within two miles of the lake, and during the fall and the pres- 
ent spring and summer hundreds of pounds of fish have been 
taken out of it. Still there seems to be no perceptible dimi- 
nution of the supply. You can still catch fish there so rap- 
idly that you will soon tire of the sport and want to rest. 

There are good accommodations at the lake. Plenty of 
ice is put up each winter, so that you can save your fish and 
bring them home. There are several boats on the lake that 
can be had at reasonable rates. To reach the lake, go to 
Hudson, Wisconsin, and take the north-bound train on the 
18 



274 MISCELLANEOUS. 

North Wisconsin railroad, to Cable. From there (a distance 
of two miles) you can get a team to take you out. 

I have spun this narrative to a much greater length than I 
intended. We packed our two largest pike in ice, and I 
brought them to Chicago. Dr. Velie, secretary of the 
Academy of Sciences, one of the most skillful taxidermists in 
the West, has mounted my twenty-three pounder in fine 
style. 

Mr. Powers has also had his twenty pounder mounted. We 
brought several of the large pike with us, and about a hun- 
dred pounds of bass. The others that we caught we either 
ate, returned to the water while alive, or gave to people at the 
camps, so that none were wasted. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE LAKE SUPERIOR REGION. 

FROM MARQUETTE TO DULUTH — A MILD WINTER — A CROWD IN "MACKI- 
NAW FLANNEL " — THE LUMBER INTERESTS — FISHERIES — BROOK 
TROUT — DUCKS AND GEESE IN SEASON — LITTLE HUNTING — TROUT 
LAKE — A CHARMING LOCATION FOR SPORTSMEN. 

" There is a pleasure in these pathless woods, 
There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
There is society where none intrudes, 
By the deep sea, and music in its roar, 
love not man the less, but nature more. 
From these our interviews, in which I steal 
From all I may be or have been before. 

To mingle with the universe and feel 
What I can ne'er -express, yet cannot all conceal." 

There is indeed a grandeur, a sublimity, an impressive 
solitude imparted by the unbroken forests which line the 
shores of Lake Superior, as they lay wrapt in their heavy 
mantle of snow, which it would be vain for me to attempt to 
describe. The scene, although in such wide contrast from 
that which the same country presents in summer, is none the 
less attractive and beautiful. 

I have recently spent many hours alone, wandering far 
into the depths of these grand forests, that now slumber amid 
the silence of a still rigid winter, a silence unbroken save by 
the moaning of the wind through the tops of the tall pine- 
trees, lost in admiration of the scene before me. To most 
people the woods present but a lonely and dreary aspect in 
winter, but to me the scene is sublime. I love the very soli- 
tude and loneliness which the season occasions, and enjoy it 

275 



276 MISCELLANEOUS. 

quite as much as the more picturesque and musical features 
presented in the summer season. 

Throughout this entire range of country skirting the south 
shore of Lake Superior, from Marquette to Duhith and ex- 
tending from the lake a hundred miles to the southward, the 
ground is now, on the first day of April, covered with snow 
to a depth of from two to three feet. The lakes and streams 
are covered with ice twenty to thirty inche^thick. Lake 
Superior itself is frozen all along the shore and for many 
miles out toward its center. The lighthouse-keeper at Outer 
Island, which lies twenty miles ©ut in the lake from Bayfield, 
reports that no open water is visible from the tower even with 
the aid of a powerful telescope, and it is stated that a short 
distance west of Bayfield the lake is frozen entirely across. 

Teams are passing between the various towns along the 
lakeshore on the ice, and I have myself just returned from a 
delightful sleigh-ride to Bayfield, a distance of eighteen miles 
from Ashland, the entire trip having been made on the ice, 
and over water measuring from twenty to one hundred feet in 
depth. Considering the time of year and the extremely mild 
winter that has prevailed south of here, the novelty of the 
sensation, as we sped through the keen frosty air, which was 
rendered musical by the cheerful sound of sleigh-bells, may 
be more easily imagined than described. Even now the mer- 
cury runs down to zero or very near it every night. In 
mid-day it ranges from twenty to forty degrees above. 

The lumbermen are still busily engaged cutting and bank- 
ing logs, ready to run down on the ''June rise." Thousands 
of men and teams have been employed all winter cutting and 
banking logs along the streams and railroads, and hundreds 
of thousands of dollars will be put in circulation when these 
vast forces are paid off for their winter's work. These lumber- 
men, or more strictly " loggers," are an interesting species of 



MISCELLANEOUS. 277 

the genus homo. They live principally on pork, beans, corn- 
beef and coffee, the pork forming the leading article in the 
bill of fare, by a large majority. This class of food produces 
so much animal heat in their bodies that they can stand cold 
equal to an Esquimaux, and even in this semi-arctic winter 
they wear very light clothing. They seldom wear coats or 
vests, even when not at work. Their pants and shirts are 
made of the thick heavy ''Mackinaw" flannel, and if, owing 
to an unusually cold snap or to their not being at work, they 
feel cold, they simply put on another shirt. This flannel is 
made up in very flashy colors, the most popular being blue, 
crimson and scarlet, though some of the men wear grey. A 
crowd of them together present a most fantastic picture. 
One man wears a red shirt, blue pants, black cap and mocca- 
sins ; another wears a blue shirt, red pants and a red cap ; 
still another wears a suit of all red and his '' pard " one of all 
blue, and large cow-hide boots. Many of them wear red 
and blue flannel or knit caps, and occasionally some one will 
heighten the picture by wearing a broad-brim black or drab 
sombrero and a red scarf or handkerchief tied around his 
waist. There are also many Indians and half-breeds in this 
country, with whom this taste for gaudy colors is inherent, and 
they even out-do their white brethren in their display of colors. 

As we roll up to a station, many of which consist of but a 
few log-cabins, in the midst of this wilderness, and this gaily 
attired throng turns out to see the train come in, the traveler 
need draw but slightly on his imagination to fancy himself 
passing over the Alps and his train suddenly surrounded and 
attacked by the Alpine banditti. 

One of these loggers, who had evidently made up his mind 
to ''settle" here, had been away to the settlements, had 
married and was returning with his bride to his forest home, 
on the same train on which I was a passenger. 



2*78 MISCELLANEOUS. 

He was a "sandy" complexioned man, with red, bushy 
hair, red mustache, and had not shaved for about two weeks. 
He wore a pair of red flannel pants tucked in his boots, a gray 
.flannel shirt and (for this occasion only) a short, heavy black 
coat. The bride was a rather comely but extremely awkward- 
looking girl of probably twenty summers (and about the same 
numbers of winters), attired in a '' home-made" grey dress, 
red and white plaid shawl, green knit scarf and a black bonnet 
trimmed with a large black ostrich plume. 

The groom patronized the train boy liberally, and he and 
the bride munched pop-corn, peanuts, oranges, figs and candy 
all through the journey. They looked and acted as if very 
happy. 

Fire has destroyed large tracts of pine and hard wood in 
this portion of the state. Whole townships are frequently 
laid desolate in a single day. After the pine-tree is killed by 
fire it soon decays and falls. It is truly a sad sight to see 
thousands of acres of valuable timber thus offered as a sacrifice 
to the consuming element, and yet there seem to be no means 
of preventing it. Notwithstanding the frequent ravishes of fire 
and the millions of trees that are annually cut off by the lum- 
bermen, there is still but a very slight diminution of the supply, 
so vast is the extent of this pine region that one may travel 
twenty, thirty, or even fifty miles in many places, through 
unbroken forests, without seeing a cabin, a footprint, or any 
other sign of a white man. It is estimated by good judges 
that it will take fifty years to exhaust the supply of pine in 
this -state, at the present rate of consurnption. 

Next in importance to the lumber interests in this portion 
of the Lake Superior country are the fisheries. Hundreds of 
men in this place and Bayfield, as well as at other points along 
the shore, live by the rich products of this fertile body of 
water. It is estimated that nearly three hundred tons of lake- 



Miscellaneous. 2*70 

trout and whitefish have been shipped from these two points 
within the past four months. The greater portion of these 
are caught in nets, set through the ice, though a great many 
men are constantly employed in catching with hook and line. 

Holes are cut through the ice where the water is thirty to 
sixty feet deep, and a hook, baited with cut bait or pork- 
rind, is dropped down within a few feet of the bottom, and 
is then kept moving up and down. When the fisherman feels 
a strike, he gives the line a sharp jerk, and when he finds that 
he has fastened his fish, he runs with the line until the fish is 
brought through the hole and landed on the ice. This is 
rendered easy by cutting the hole much larger at the bottom 
than at the top. A day's catch varies from twenty up to one 
hundred pounds, though occasionally a man has been known 
to take as high as four or five hundred pounds in a day. Only 
trout are usually caught with hook and line, the whitefish 
being all taken in nets. The fish bring four cents per 
pound on the ice. The men protect themselves from the 
severity of the weather by erecting wind-breakers near their 
stands. This is done by planting stakes in the ice, and 
spreading blankets, or pieces of canvas over them. In sum- 
mer time the hand-fishing is done from boats, with equally as 
good success as in winter. 

This is a very popular resort for fishermen and sportsmen 
during the summer. Nearly all the streams emptying into 
Lake Superior teem with brook-trout, and the small inland 
lakes, which are very numerous, contain great numbers of 
black-bass, pike, pickerel and muskalonge. Some marvel- 
ous accounts are given of the great catches of brook-trout, 
that have been made in this section, and were they not sub- 
stantiated by men of undoubted veracity, we could scarcely 
credit them. A gentleman, his wife and daughter, who spent 
several weeks here last summer, frequently caught as many as 



280 MISCELLANEOUS. 

three hundred trout in a single day, in Fish creek, which emp- 
ties into Chequamegon bay, only three miles from here. An old 
gentleman from Pittsburg, who has visited this locality several 
times, has caught two hundred in less than a day on several 
occasions. Hon. Samuel S. Fifield (the present Lieutenant 
Governor of the State), editor of the Ashland Press, states 
that he made a trip up White river two years ago, in company 
with two other gentlemen, and that in two days' fishing they 
scored over six hundred trout. A great many brook-trout 
are taken in the lake and bays along the rocky shores, and it 
is here that the largest ones are usually found. They are 
frequently taken as large as three or four pounds in weight. 
Those in the streams in this vicinity are also large, the 
average weight being from half-a-pound to a pound. An old 
fisherman who has lived here for over twenty-five years in- 
forms me that, notwithstanding the great number of fish 
annually taken from these waters, he can see no preceptible 
decrease in the supply; that each year's catch is as large as 
that of any previous year, the only difference being that 
not so many of the very large fish are now taken as in former 
years ; still the great slaughter that is being practiced by 
many who come here from abroad, such as in the instances 
mentioned above, must and will eventually deplete the 
waters, and the practice of taking such large numbers merely 
for the momentary pleasure it affords, or for the sake of 
publishing the scores at home, cannot be too severely con- 
demned. A law should be enacted making it a misdemeanor, 
punishable by a heavy fine, to catch more than a reasonable 
number of fish in any one day. 

Game is also abundant in this south-shore country. Deer 
especially are very numerous. Strange as it niay seem there 
is but little hunting done here, either by the Indians or white 
settlers, though there are a few of the former who live by the 



MISCELLANEOUS. 281 

chase and they supply the home market and ship large quan- 
tities of game abroad. Most of the Indians hang around the 
towns and live by fishing, making maple sugar and working 
at such work as they can get to do. The majority of them 
have more or less white blood in their veins, and they, as a 
rule, care less for the pleasures of the chase than the full- 
bloods. I am informed that of those few who are skillful 
hunters, a single man frequently kills four or five deer in a 
day. Mr. J. B. Bono, proprietor of the Fountain House, at 
Bayfield, told me that last September three Indians killed 
fourteen deer in one day within twenty miles of Bayfield. 
Fur animals, such as the otter, beaver, mink, marten, wild cat 
and lynx, are also numerous. 

There are thousands of ducks and geese here in season. 
Mr, Bono tells me that he employed an Indian to go out and 
kill a lot for his hotel last fail. They took a boat and went 
into some marshes at the mouth of Sand river, a few miles west 
of Bayfield, and in three hours' shooting killed 190 ducks. 

Visiting sportsmen have frequently made equally large 
bags of both ducks and geese. Ashland and Bayfield are 
both popular and pleasant summer resorts, and during the past 
two summers have been crowded to overflowing with pleasure 
seekers. Aside from the fishing and shooting which the 
region affords, it is a delightful place in which to spend the 
summer. Both towns are supplied with large, pleasant and 
well-kept hotels. The climate, even during July and August, 
is pleasant, the nights especially being decidedly cool and in- 
vigorating. A good heavy blanket is needed every night in 
summer. The Chequamegon House, at Ashland, is an ele- 
gant building and is handsomely furnished. There are 
always plenty of boats and guides to be had at reasonable 
prices, and sailing and rowing on the bay afford a most 
delightful pastime. 



282 MISCELLANEOUS. 

The village of Phillips, seventy-six miles south of here, on 
the Wisconsin Central railway, is also a most charming sum- 
mer resort. It is situated on the bank of Elk lake, a beauti- 
ful little sheet of water, affording delightful rowing, sailing 
and bathing facilities and the surrounding country also 
abounds in fish and game. 

A great deal of game is killed in this vicinity by those 
who take the trouble to hunt it. Mr. Fewell shipped over 
3,000 pounds of venison from this place a year ago last winter. 
Only a very little has been killed during the past winter. 
More trapping has been done, however, than in previous 
winters. He has shipped this past winter large quantities of 
furs, mostly beaver and otter. I met here Mr. C, R. Patter- 
son, an old Indian trader, who has a post on the headwaters 
of the Flambeau river, about a hundred miles northeast of 
Phillips. He described a lake that lies a few miles from his post, 
called Trout Lake, which he says abounds in a variety of 
trout closely resembling the brook-trout, but which differs from 
them slightly in some respects, and grow much larger. They 
often attain a weight of thirty pounds. They also differ 
widely from the lake trout. They are readily taken with 
either the fly or live minnow. Several Chicago sportsmen 
have visited the lake, and can bear testimony to the superior 
quality, large size and great numbers of the trout it contains. 
The lake is eight miles long, six miles wide, and contains 
several islands, each of which covers ten acres or more, and 
affords beautiful camping-grounds. Mr. P. says all the varie- 
ties of game that inhabit this country are abundant in this 
locality. 

Taken all in all, this northern portion of Wisconsin is 
probably the best fish and game country now to be found in 
the Northwest. It is reached by way of the Chicago, Mil- 
waukee & St. Paul and the Wisconsin Central railroads, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 283 

the latter road reaching clear through to the great lake. 
This company furnishes excellent facilities to sportsmen, 
transporting dogs, boats and camp equipage free, and stop- 
ping trains at any point between stations, where they may 
wish to get on or off. Sportsmen visiting this region will 
find in Mr. Fewell, of Phillips, and Hon. Sam Fifield, of 
Ashland, pleasant and valuable acquaintances, and should not 
fail to consult both as to the best localities in which to find 
particular sport of which they may be in search. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

AUTUMN RAMBLINGS IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN. 

AMONG THE WOLVERINES — OFF TO THE TWIN LAK'ES — MY " HUNTER'S 
pet" — THROUGH THE PINE FOREST — ONE SHOT AND ONE MISS — a 
PACK OF WOLVES — HIDING-PLACES OF THE BEAR — A SHOT AT A 
DEER — ON BOARD THE " NORTHERN BELLE." 

On the night of September 2d, 1878, a party of five of us, 
weary of the cares and duties of the office, and longing for a 
few weeks' rest and recreation, boarded the train on the L., 
C. and L. raih'oad, at Louisville, Ky., which was at that time 
my home, and retired for a night's slumber in a clean and 
comfortable bed in a Pullman sleeping-car. We soon forgot 
all our cares, and awoke at the call of the conductor at four 
o'clock A.M. to find ourselves in Cincinnati, where we par- 
took of a hearty breakfast, and at a quarter-past seven a.m. 
left that city over the Cincinnati, Hamilton & Dayton railroad 
for Richmond, Ind. At this point we transferred, in the union 
depot at ten minutes to eleven a.m., to the cos)^and comforta- 
ble coach of the Grand Rapids & Indiana railroad, which car- 
ried us through to our destination without any other changes. 
The conductor and other officials of this road resorted to every 
means at their command to make our journey and that of 
every passenger under their charge as comfortable as possible. 
I have made several trips over this road, and in each case 
have been very favorably impressed with the uniform cour- 
tesy and kindness displayed by all its employes toward their 
patrons. 

At half-past six a.m. of the 4th instant we arrived at 
Elmira, a small station twenty-five miles south of Petoskey, 

2M 



MISCELLANEOUS. 285 

and 5 79 miles from Louisville, where we alighted from the 
train. We had made the run in thirty hours, which, after 
deducing the three hours' lay-over in Cincinnati, makes a 
creditable showing for the roads as to speed. 

We loaded our tent, provisions, guns, fishing tackle and 
other baggage into a wagon which we had engaged for the 
purpose, and started for Twin Lakes, in Montmorency 
county, forty miles east. By noon we had made half the 
distance, and stopped to lunch near a small frame house,, 
which our driver informed us was the last human habitation 
we would see on the route. His statement proved correct. 
The remainder of the ro ' e lay through a most wild and deso- 
late region of country, covered with a rich growth of giant Nor- 
way pine, interspersed occasionally with vast and almost 
impenetrable swamps of hemlock, tamarack and white cedar. 
We passed over one tract of perhaps a thousand acres, where 
years ago fire had, during a dry season, passed through and 
killed all the timber. Subsequently other fires had followed 
and burned up every vestige of dead timber, reducing the 
country to the condition of a natural prairie. This is now 
grown up with scattering dwarf-pines, or as the settlers call 
them, "jack-pines." These openings or plains furnish fine 
grazing lands for deer, and at the proper season are the 
favorite hunting-grounds for the Lidians and white hunters, 
as the game can be seen much farther than in the woods. 

About nine o'clock at night we reached Twin Lakes, upon 
the bank of one of which we pitched our camp, built a rous- 
ing fire, made a pot of strong coffee, of which wcv drank lib- 
erally, and lay down to enjoy the rest we so much needed 
after our long journey. On the following day, some of our 
party amused themselves by taking a few fine bass and pick- 
erel from the lakes, otliers by shooting a few ducks, and the 
balance by strolling through the woods, enjoying the fresh, 



286 MISCELLANEOUS. 

invigorating atmosphere, etc. Our teamster, Steve Bradford, 
remained with us until the following morning, and during 
this day took several good fish. On Monday morning he 
left us to return home. An old hunter and trapper who had 
previously encamped in the vicinity of our camp, and who 
had been away several days on a hunting expedition, returned 
to his camp at this juncture, empty-handed. To our eager in- 
quiries regarding the prospect of killing a few deer within the 
next few weeks, he replied that there was scarcely a possibility 
of our doing so, as at this particular season the does were 
weaning their fawns and were lying hidden away from them 
all through the day ; that the fawns being naturally the most 
timid creatures in the world, would not venture out to feed 
during the day alone ; that the bucks were also lying hidden 
away drying their horns, and that each ventured out to feed 
only at night, and then only for a short time — barely long 
enough to eat a quantity of food sufficient to last them through 
the following day. He said that had we chosen a time a few 
weeks earlier or later, we would have found them ranging 
freely during the day, feeding and exercising, and would have 
had no trouble in securing frequent and easy shots ; but at 
this particular time it would be almost impossible to find a 
deer under any circumstances. 

We were sadly disappointed at hearing such unfavorable 
news, but resolved to make the best of it, and put forth 
strenuous efforts to secure at least venison enough to supply 
our camp during our stay. The old hunter readily consented 
to act as our guide, and to do his best toward finding a deer. 
According, early on Monday morning he reported at our 
tent, armed with a Henry repeating rifle, ready to take the 
war-path. I took my Stevens breech-loading rifle, of the 
" Hunter's Pet" pattern, a light but very effective weapon. 
Doctor Shortt, another member of our party, took a breech- 



MISCELLANEOUS. 287 

loading shot-gun, loaded with buckshot, and together we 
three filed out through the pine forest and soon entered upon 
one of the jack-pine plains, as the settlers call them. We 
had not proceeded more than a mile over this plain when we 
started a magnificent buck from his hiding-place. We were 
walking single-file at the time, our guide in front and we fol- 
lowing. As the de^r sprang up our guide brought his rifle to his 
shoulder and pulled, but his cartridge failed to go. He being 
directly in front of me some twenty paces, and the deer run- 
ning directly from us, prevented me from getting a fair shot 
without endangering our guide's life. Still, as the buck 
bounded slightly out of his line and plunged into a thicket, I 
made a snap-shot and missed. As the Doctor was still in the 
rear of both of us, it was impossible for him to shoot at all. 
So at the end of this, our first inning, our score stood one 
shot and one miss. 

However, we could scarcely regret our ill luck, for we were 
so enraptured by the beauty and grace of this magnificent 
animal as he arose from his hiding-place and bounded lightly 
and gracefully away, like a phantom in the midnight air, or a 
shadow on the wall, that, notwithstanding our greed for game, 
we should surely have suffered severe remorse of conscience 
had we succeeded in sacrificing his rich life. After this 
episode, we hunted faithfully all day without getting another 
shot. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon we separated, so as to 
cover more ground. About the same time a heavy rain-storm 
set in, which continued through the day and night. The 
Doctor and the guide soon returned to camp by different 
routes, but I continued in a northwesterly course to a large 
tract of heavy, hardwood timber, where our guide had 
informed me we would be more likely to find game at this 
season than in the open pine woods or on the plains. I had 



288 MISCELLANEOUS. 

no better success here, however, than in the pine lands, and, 
finding darkness drawing nigh, I decided not to return to 
camp that night. I accordingly took a trail that led to a 
shanty where lived a German settler or "homesteader," as 
they are called here. I reached this house just as it began to 
grow dark, and was informed that I was then twelve miles 
from camp in a direct line, and had traveled during the day 
about fifteen or sixteen miles. I was kindly cared for by this 
generous, warm-hearted German and his wife, both of whom I 
soon learned were well educated in their native tongue, and 
also in French and Spanish. The man is by profession a civil 
engineer and draughtsman, and formerly held a good position 
in the employ of a railroad company in Germany. His wife 
had been a teacher in the schools of Berlin, and later a gov- 
erness in the family of a wealthy nobleman. They now live 
in a log shanty about twelve feet square, with a roof com- 
posed of slabs or puncheons, split from pine logs, and without 
a floor of any kind. 

The roof leaks like a sieve, and on this occasion they were 
tiamping around in the mud while attending to their house- 
hold duties. There was not even the conventional large fire- 
place and bright log fire to cheer the scene, but only a dull fire 
in a small stove. However, their warm hearts made amends 
for all that their home lacked in the way of comforts and con- 
veniences. I was treated to a frugal supper of roast bear-meat, 
potatoes, bread and tea, and the rain ceasing soon after, I 
retired to rest and slept soundly till daylight. 

This family has a fine piano standing on the ground in one 
corner of the room, upon which are piled some two or three 
hundred volumes of choice books in different languages, but 
principally in German. On their homestead is a small lake, 
covering about ten acres, which is the head of Thunder Bay 
river. The lake is about thirty feet deep in the center, clear 



MISCELLANEOUS. 289 

as crystal, has no inlet save springs in the bottom of it, and 
has an outlet about fifteen feet wide, and from one to two feet 
deep, with a strong current. The lake is full of fine fish. 

I started early in the morning for camp, where I arrived 
about noon and found the boys delighted to see me. They 
had passed an anxious night and forenoon, thinking some harm 
had befallen me — that I had wounded a bear and had been 
attacked and killed by him, or something of the kind. They 
were glad to learn, however, that I had merely been on an 
exploring expedition to the head-waters of Thunder Bay 
river. 

On my return to camp on Wednesday I learned that the 
other members of the party had, during my absence, taken a 
pickerel thirty inches long and weighing eight pounds, several 
four-pound black-bass and numerous smaller specimens of 
both species. While two of them were out in a boat fishing, 
a large black bear came to the edge of the water about two 
hundred yards away, stood up on his hind legs_and quietly 
contemplated the strange intruders before him. One of the 
party brought his Burgess repeating rifle to bear upon Bruin, 
and fired several shots before getting the exact range. He 
finally got it, however, and plunged a ball through the 
animal's haunches which caused him to seek shelter in a 
neighboring swamp in a hurry. The party landed and fol- 
lowed him as far as they could find his trail, but as they soon 
struck dry ground they could then see it no longer, and were 
compelled to abandon the chase and return to camp, greatly 
disappointed at their failure to capture so rich a prize. 

Early the next morning, accompanied by my guide, I 
again took to the woods, determined, if not to capture veni- 
son, at least to explore the surrounding country until I was 
fully satisfied as to its character and resources. About four miles 
from camp we entered a vast tract of hardwood timber, of a 
19 



290 MISCELLANEOUS. 

most luxuriant growth, many trees measuring four to six feet 
in diameter. This tract abounds in wild fruits of various 
kinds. We found during the day blackberries, raspberries, 
huckleberries, sugar-pears, ground -hemlock berries, winter- 
green berries and red cherries, upon each of which we feasted 
to our hearts' content. About noon we started another fine 
buck, at which I got a running shot, but through such thick 
brush that I failed to bring him down. The guide's gun 
again failed to go when he pulled, at which he grew exceed- 
ingly "hot," and threatened all manner of violence to the 
weapon if it should ever behave so badly again. At two 
o'clock we arrived at a lumber cam.p on Hunt creek, one of 
the tributaries of Thunder Bay river, where we had expected 
to take dinner; but unfortunately we found the camp deserted 
and the cupboard in the same deplorable condition as Mrs. 
Hubbard found hers when she went to it to get her poor dog a 
bone. However, we did not fare quite so badly as the histori- 
cal canine, for we had brought a light lunch with us to pro- 
vide against such contingencies. After eating it and resting 
an hour we started for another camp fifteen miles farther 
down the creek, where we intended to spend the night. We 
hunted through the woods in the direction of the camp until 
near sundown, when we struck a wagon-track which the guide 
said would take us to camp, and which we would easily 
reach before dark, but he had been misinformed in regard to 
it, and having never been over the ground before, soon con- 
cluded that there was a probability of our having to sleep on 
the ground that night. We pushed on, however, as long as 
we could possibly see the track and then followed it several 
miles farther by feeling for it with our feet. With great diffi- 
culty we kept in it in this way until it grew so dim that we 
could do so no longer, and at nine o'clock we wer^ compelled 
to abandon all hope of finding the camp that night. We 



MISCELLANEOUS. 291 

accordingly halted, built a fire of dry pine logs, and, without 
a mouthful of food of any kind, lay down on the bare ground 
for a night's sleep. We had walked during the day thirty- 
five miles and were tired enough to sleep without the luxury 
of a tent and good, warm bedding. Several times during the 
night we awoke to find our fire burned down low and ourselves 
numb with cold, but we piled on more fuel, toasted ourselves 
before the bright blaze and returned to our slumbers. Just 
before daylight a pack of wolves came within a quarter of a 
mile of our fire and gave us a matinee of their wild, weird 
music. The perfoi:mance was opened by a male voice, of a 
tenor quality, which was soon joined by a female in a rich 
contralto, then by an alto, then by a soprano, and so on until 
at least a dozen had chimed in and sung their parts. The 
chorus probably occupied fifteen minutes and then gradually 
died away. 

As soon as it became light enough for us to see readily, 
we shouldered our rifles, and, leaving the trail which we then 
ascertained did not lead in the direction of the lumber-camp 
at all, we took a due easterly course, and had not walked 
more than three miles before our ears were gladdened by the 
sound of human voices, which we found came from a point 
about a mile to our right. Turning and walking briskly in 
that direction, we soon reached the camp. The cook, a 
large good-hearted Irishman, sat us down to a sumptuous 
breakfast of baked beans, boiled corned-beef, bacon, pota- 
toes, biscuit and tea, and ordered us to help ourselves. 
Never did the most dutiful soldier obey an order with more 
alacrity than we obeyed that, and never did a vanquished foe 
disappear more rapidly before the onslaught of an advancing 
column than did that provender under the ceaseless fire of 
our voracious appetites. It was the first regular meal we had 
eaten in twenty-eight hours, and in that time we had walked 



292 MISCELLANEOUS. 

nearly forty miles. After fully satisfying our appetites, we 
filled our game bags with bread and meat for a noonday 
lunch, and again set out in the direction of our own camp. 
During the forenoon we crossed one of the almost impene- 
trable swamps with which this country abounds. This one is 
thickly grown with spruce, tamarack and white cedar. Un- 
derneath this growth the formation seems to be a light quick- 
sand, which stands full of water. We stood on the roots of 
the undergrowth, which forms a network, or screen, over the 
quicksand, and, jumping up and down, the ground and 
bushes would shake for two or three rods in every direction. 
These swamps seem to be the favorite hiding-places of the 
bear, for they are literally cut up with bear-tracks and wal- 
lows, and in some places well-beaten paths are seen where 
the bears pass from one part of the swamp to another. My 
guide informed me that if we would sit down here, by one of 
these paths, and wait a few hours, we would be almost sure 
of a shot, but our plan would not admit of this loss of time ; 
so we pressed on and arrived at camp late in the afternoon, 
tired enough to thoroughly enjoy the comforts it afforded us. 

Other expeditions in different directions from camp were 
made during our stay, but they so closely resembled those 
already described that further particulars of them would not 
be interesting. However, we failed to find any more deer, 
though we were constantly coming upon tracks and other 
signs where they had been feeding during the night. 

On Saturday evening, our time having arrived to return 
to the railroad, our team came to take us back. We were 
glad to see the familiar face of our honest driver, especially 
as it was one of the few human faces we had seen since our 
departure from civilization. Our camp was on what is called 
the ''Tote road," upon which one team passes each week, 
''toting" supplies from tiie nearest railroad station tp the 



MISCELLANEOUS. 293 

lumber camp, a distance of nearly forty miles. The appear- 
ance of this wagon is as much of an event to the few people 
in this wilderness as is the entrance of a circus into our town 
to the colored people. 

Early on Sunday morning we broke camp, loaded our 
baggage again into the wagon, and started to retrace our steps 
toward the confines of civilization. We reached our driver's 
house, a cozy, comfortable farm-house, six miles from the 
railroad station, at five o'clock p.m., and remained over night. 
Here one of the most exciting episodes of the trip occurred. 
As we neared the house we had heard the baying of a hound 
in the woods, and our driver had remarked that we might 
reasonably expect a shot at a deer before dark. Sure enough, 
while we were preparing for supper a deer came bounding 
across the opening, and plunging into a small lake on the 
farm, started to swim across. We at once gathered such 
weapons as we could readily get hold of and started for the 
lake. Two of us went toward the point where he would come 
out of the water, and Sam Hutchings ran round to the side 
where he had entered the lake. As we headed him off he 
turned and started back, and when within about thirty yards 
of Sam, who had hastily caught up his Smith & Wesson 
revolver, and who, by the way, is a somewhat famous pistol 
shot, he sent a ball through his head and ended his career. 
He proved to be a nearly full-grown fawn, and we made 
several meals from the choicest parts during the remainder of 
our trip. 

After partaking of an early breakfast with the farmer, we 
bade good-bye to his family, and he drove us over to the 
station in time for the train to Petoskey, where we arrived in 
due time. At eight o'clock a.m. we took the train for Lake- 
view, at the head of Crooked lake, six miles distant, and an 
hour later were onboard the little steamer ''Northern Belle," at 



294 MISCELLANEOUS. 

that point embarked for Cheboygan, forty-four miles distant. 
The Captain informed us that we would probably see plenty of 
ducks, loons, etc., on the trip, so we brought out the 
'' hunter' s-pet " rifle and enjoyed some very fine sport, shoot- 
ing from the bow of the vessel. 

Several ducks were taught the folly of exposing themselves 
to the unerring aim of some of our crack shots. A small 
diver was killed by an unusually long shot, several on board 
pronouncing the distance at least two hundred yards. A wood- 
duck was cut down on the wing as he crossed the channel 
about forty yards away. Several others were killed as they 
sat in the water, and all while the boat was in motion, 
making, altogether, a rather remarkable score for a morning's 
shooting with the rifle. This trip through Crooked, Burt and 
Mullett Lakes and Crooked, Indian and Cheboygan rivers is 
one of the most novel and delightful that could possibly be 
imagined. The water is clear as crystal, the air pure and 
invigorating, the scenery picturesque and beautiful in the 
extreme. Crooked river is, indeed, appropriately named. In 
many places the turns are so abrupt, that it is with the utmost 
skill and care that these little steamers can get through. 
Mullett and Burt lakes are becoming quite popular as summer 
resorts, and numerous hotels have been and are being erected 
on their shores for the accommodation of the hundreds of 
pleasure-seekers who now visit them every summer. Bass and 
pickerel abound in these and neighboring waters, and the 
Cheboygan river, at points a few miles above Mullett lake, 
affords the finest grayling fishing in the state. 

We arrived at Cheboygan late m the afternoon, and at 
once boarded the steamer ''Mary" for Mackinaw Island, 
which we reached at seven o'clock. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE ISLAND OF MACKINAC. 

THE STRAITS OF MA.CKINAC — THE PERFECT TRANSPARENCY OF THE 
WATER — PURITY OF THE ATMOSPHERE — ANTIDOTE FOR HAY FEVER 
— FORT MACKINAC — THE ASTOR HOUSE — THE ENCHANTING ISLE — 
SOUVENIRS — THE CAPTAIN'S DREAM — PELICAN LAKE — AN AQUA 
INCOGNITA — TSE HOME OF THE MIGHTY MUSCALONGE, 

Our visit to the beautiful island of Mackinac was of the 
most delightful character and one long to be remembered. It 
is one of the most delightful spots on earth. Situated at the 
confluence of lakes Michigan and Huron and at the western 
entrance to the Straits of Mackinac, it is surrounded by water 
than which none clearer, purer or more beautiful is to be 
found on the globe. It is so perfectly transparent that every 
pebble of the size of a pea may be easily distinguished at a 
depth of thirty feet or more. We saw fish from the piers at 
the boat-landing not more than two inches long in water 
twenty to thirty feet deep, and could actually distinguish 
their fins at those depths. The atmosphere is as clear and 
pure as the water, and at this point, as well as at Petoskey, 
Chebo3^gan, and in fact all through this region, is a perfect 
antidote for hay fever. Hundreds of sufferers from this disease 
seek and find relief at these points every summer. The island 
is two and a-half miles in width and about four miles long. 
Its greatest altitude above the level of the lake is 330 feet. 
It contains many features of natural and historical interest, 
prominent among which is old Fort Holmes, where one of 
the important engagements of the war of 181 2 took place, 



296 MISCELLANEOUS. 

and where the gallant - General Holmes fell while defending 
it. The ruins of the old stockade are well preserved. Other 
points attracting the notice and admiration of the visitor are 
Scott's Cave, Sugar-loaf Rock, Arch Rock, Fairy Arch of the 
Giant's Causeway, Point Lookout, Devil's Kitchen, Lovers- 
Leap, Skull Cave and Chimney Rock. Many of these scenes 
are sublimely beautiful, but space will not admit of descrip- 
tions here. The island is covered with a thick growth of 
cedar, balsam, fir, soft maple and some of the smaller varieties 
of hardwood. Hard gravel roads in various directions form 
delightful drives and enable visitors to reach with facility 
every notable point. 

Fort Mackinac, with its frowning artillery and its sentinel 
pacing his beat, reminds one of the necessity of securely 
guarding this, one of the nation's natural strongholds, even 
in time of peace. The fortifications are whitewashed, and 
the barracks and officers' residences are painted white. 
These, with the surrounding evergreens, present a most 
picturesque view. 

The greater portion of the island has been, by an act of 
Congress, set apart as a national park, and a magnificent one 
it will be when properly improved. 

The Astor House, one of the principal hotels of the vil- 
lage, was at one time the headquarters of the Hudson's Bay 
Fur Company, of which John Jacob Astor was the head. 
Many of the account books, records and papers, some of them 
in Astor' s own handwriting, are still kept here and are a 
source of great interest to visitors. 

Our stay at the island was prolonged several days beyond 
what we had intended, by reason of a heavy gale which blew 
steadily from the west, rendering the lake so rough that the 
steamer could not make the trip from Petoskey. We had no 
occasion to regret it, however, for the fresh, invigorating 



MISCELLANEOUS. 297 

atmosphere and the rich and attractive scenery made the time 
pass most pleasantly. 

On the fourth day after our arrival, the wind having fallen 
somewhat, the bright little steamer " Mary" arrived, and at 
three o'clock p.m. we bade good-bye to the enchanting isle, the 
" Gem of the Straits," and steamed out into Lake Michigan. 
The water was still very rough, and several of the passengers 
were soon seen hugging the guard-rails, looking pale as death, 
and sadly sighing, " Oh, my ! " The run to Petoskey, a dis- 
tance of sixty miles, was made in five hours. Arriving there, 
we put up for the night, and at six o'clock the following morn- 
ing we boarded the south-bound train on the Grand Rapids 
& Indianapolis railroad, '-'homeward bound." 

While the trip had not been so fruitful of results, in a sport- 
ing sense, as we had anticipated, owing to our having chosen 
an unfavorable time, yet it has been fraught with other and 
more important results. We have seen and explored a vast 
tract of uninhabited wilderness, which, to the lover of nature, 
is as fascinating as any in the United States. We have seen 
a number of the noted summer resorts of the North ; we have' 
enjoyed the most refreshing and invigorating atmosphere to 
be found anywhere; have indulged in the most vigorous 
physical exercises, such as walking, boating, etc., and have 
returned home with greatly improved health and with such 
ravenous appetites that our hotel and boarding-house proprie- 
tors have already threatened us with an advance in the price 
of board. 

We have had strange experiences ; have witnessed many 
amusing incidents and encountered some strange characters, 
whose portraits will never be effaced from our memories. The 
warmest and most lasting friendships have grown up between 
members of the party, where before only a passing acquaint- 
ance existed. 



298 MISCELLANEOUS. 

We have retained lasting souvenirs of the event in the 
shape of some excellent photographs of our group, camp, the 
lake in which we caught many fine fish, etc., for all of which 
we are under obligations to the Doctor, who carried the pho- 
tographic apparatus and took the negatives. As an amateur 
photographer, as well as in many other respects, he is a brick. 
Among the many enjoyable incidents of the trip, we shall 
always remember how the Doctor went to sleep in a coach 
with his head thrown back and his mouth open ; how he 
woke up to find it full of paper, and how all the other pas- 
sengers enjoyed the joke much better than he did ; how the 
Captain was alarmed when suddenly aroused from his slum- 
bers by something trying to walk over or through the tent, 
which he imagined was a huge bear, but which proved to be 
only the old hunter's harmless dog looking for a bone on 
which to make a lunch ; how on the return trip his (the 
Captain's) appetite grew so ravenous that he invariably or- 
dered everything on the bill of fare at hotels. How the 
Parson, alias '' Humpty Dumpty," showed up when about to 
take the war-path in search of large game, with the skirts of 
his rubber bonnet tucked up behind and sticking straight out 
at the sides like the oars of our skiff. 

For years past I have heard strange rumors of the finny 
monsters that were said to dwell in Pelican lake. Hereto- 
fore, it has been a strange aqiLa incognita^ said to lie away in 
the northern wilderness, somewhere in the central portion of 
Lincoln county, Wisconsin; but this was all any one could 
tell me of it. Only the Chippewa Indians, a few hardy 
woodsmen and a very few adventurous sportsmen had seen 
it, and they brought to the less favored portion of creation 
such news as they saw fit to give concerning the strange 
water. 

Residents of Wausau and Merrill have told me that they 



MISCELLANEOUS. 299 

have frequently seen muscalonge weighing thirty to forty 
pounds, brought into their towns by the Indians during the 
winter months, that had been speared through the ice, and 
which the Indians said they had brought from Pelican lake. 
The same parties told me that six and eight pound bass were 
''said to be" common there. With such stories ringing in 
my ears, I fondly dreamed of visiting the lake some day in 
the dim, distant, threadbare future. The opportunity came 
sooner than I anticipated, for the Milwaukee, Lake Shore cS: 
Western Railway Company pushed its line northward through 
the wilderness with such energy and rapidity that early in the 
present season it reached Pelican lake, built a comfortable 
depot on its banks, and commenced running regular trains to 
that point. When I saw this announcement I lost no time 
in procuring a couple of through tickets, checking my tackle 
and camping outfit, and, accompanied by my wife, started 
for the happy fishing-ground. 

We reached the lake at one o'clock in the afternoon, pro- 
cured a boat, shipped our baggage, and, pulling down the 
west shore half a mile, made our camp on a high bank 
beneath the shade of several large birch and pine trees. The 
banks are walled up nearly all around the lake with large 
red granite boulders, and the bottom is closely paved with 
the same material, though generally in smaller pieces. The 
water is of a dark coffee-color, imparted by the many small 
streams which flow into the lake, and which in their turn 
drain numerous small swamps in the vicinity. The water 
seems pure, however, as evidenced by the enormous size to 
which the fish grow in it. The black-bass bit finely during 
the three days we were there, those we took ranging in size 
from two to four pounds. My wife took one on the trolling 
spoon that weighed, after being out of the water several 
hours, four pounds and thirteen ounces ; I think it doubtless 



300 MISCELLANEOUS. 

lost the other three ounces after being taken out, and before 
it was weighed. She caught three others that weighed sixteen 
and three-quarter pounds, under like conditions. 

We also caught a number of pike weighing froni two to 
seven pounds each, but were not fortunate enough to get one 
of the large muscalonge,* though other parties took several 
while we were there. Conductor James Shehan won the big 
hook, with one that tipped the beam at twenty-one and a 
half pounds after being dressed. A party from Antigo caught 
one on Saturday that weighed twenty-three gross, and the 
hotel keeper at Eland Junction fed his boarders all the fol- 
lowing week on one that weighed twenty-five and a half 
pounds gross ; but the boys watched him when he went to 
dress it, and saw him throw away the two good-sized bould- 
ers that he had forced down its throat before weighing it. 

Several others, equally large, had been taken during the 
two or three weeks preceding our visit, but ^' there are as 
good fish in the lake as ever yet were caught," and doubtless 
enough of these lusty fellows yet remain to furnish grand 
sport for everybody that may go there for several years to 
.come. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 

ENCHANTING SCENERY — A SUDDEN SHOT — I Fy\LL ASLEEP — AN AWFUL 
AWAKENING — HAND-TO-HAND FIGHT WITH A GRIZZLY — "HOLD 
THE fort" — A SWARM OF MOSQUITOES — A TERRIFIC SLAUGHTER. 

In the fall of '72 I was hunting black-tail deer in the 
Rocky Mountains with a party of friends from Omaha. We 
left camp one morning at sunrise, and after going about two 
miles separated, each selecting his own route, with the under- 
standing, however, that we were to take our stands as near 
the point at which we then st"ood as the lay of the land 
would admit of. The dogs were put out at the same time. 

I started up a narrow canyon, both sides of which were 
almost perpendicular, and which was not more than thirty 
yards wide, at its base. The walls were of red sandstone, 
nearly two hundred feet high, and presented a rugged, pic- 
turesque appearance. I walked leisurely along, my mind 
wholly occupied with the beauty and grandeur of the scene, 
and totally unmindful of the distance I had traversed, until I 
reached the head of the canyon, and here pausing and look- 
ing at my watch I saw that it was more than an hour since I 
had left my companions, that I was at least two miles from 
our starting-point, and probably about that distance from 
any other member of the party. Just at this instant I heard 
the dogs give mouth and in a moment more heard a shot, 
though by reason of the great distance both sounds came to 
me but faintly. I selected a comfortable position by a large 
rock and sat down to rest and await any further developments. 

301 



302 MISCELLANEOUS. 

I hoped, of course, that having now obtained a sightly look- 
out, I might be favored with a shot. I waited long and 
anxiously for the hounds to renew their music, but the wel- 
come sound came not. All was silent as the grave. At 
length my interest in the sport subsided. I meditated. Then 
I succumbed to the effects of the balmy mountain air and the 
mild September sun, and gradually fell asleep. 1 may have 
slept an hour, perhaps more, when on the rocks at my very 
feet I heard a clanking as of heavy chains. I started up, and 
was horror-stricken to see that there, within six feet of me, 
stood a huge grizzly bear, and that to one of his fore feet 
hung a powerful steel trap, which, with the clog attached, he 
had dragged from the vicinity of our camp, where we had set 
it and several others for wolves. His legs and belly were all 
besmeared with his own blood ; the froth was dripping from 
his mouth, and his eyes glared like balls of fire as he reared 
upon his haunches to strike me to the earth. With a convul- 
sive and half-conscious movement I caught up my rifle and, 
without attempting to aim, fired in the direction of the huge 
monster. Through the cloud of smoke that ensued I saw a 
large black spot on his breast where the fire from the dis- 
charge had burned the hair away. I dropped my rifle and 
clutched my knife, but at this instant a terrible blow on my 
shoulder sent me prostrate and insensible upon the ground. 
An instant later I felt my left arm crushed as if in a vice, and 
the flesh torn from it as if by the strength of a giant. By an 
almost superhuman effort I rose upon my knees, still clutching 
my knife, and with a thrust, such as only the desperation of 
a dying man can render possible, disemboweled the terrible 
creature, opening his abdomen almost its entire length. He 
staggered, fell, rolled a little way down the hill and expired. 
Then, weakened as I was from pain and loss of blood, I 
swooned away. Another lapse of time, of the length of 



MISCELLANEOUS. . 303 

which I have little knowledge. Presently, however, I re- 
gained consciousness. I opened my eyes ; I still grasped my 
knife firmly in my right hand. My rifle lay by my side. 
I picked it up, opened the breech, and to my astonishment 
found a loaded cartridge in it. I then felt for my left arm; 
it was there and as sound as ever it was ! I then looked for 
the bear, but he w^as nowhere to be seen. The truth then 
gradually dawned upon me that, like many of the hair- 
breadth escapes we read of, it was all a dream. 

After thoroughly arousing myself I entered the woods ; 
the air was filled with the sound of flapping wings and the 
clamor of hungry voices, proceeding from an innumerable 
company of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. They sat upon the 
rocks whetting their bills. At the signal of their leader 
they charged me. At the first smell of my oil they stag- 
gered a little, but soon recovered and- came down on me 
with renewed force, business end first. In less time than it 
takes to tell it, they had absorbed all my oil, and their 
bills, which were as long and strong as those of the jack- 
snipe, were honeycombing my flesh and drinking my life's 
blood. From the slight regard they paid to the oil, I doubt 
if even skunk juice would be at all offensive to their iron-clad 
olfactories. Oh, that I could fill my blood with some deadly 
poison, that every one that bites might swell up and burst ! 

I stood their abuse but a few minutes when I surrendered 
unconditionally, pronounced the oily prescription a delusion 
and a snare, and proceeded hurriedly to tie a piece of thick 
muslin over my face, and to pull on a pair of thick buckskin 
gloves. How fortunate that I had brought these with me. 
These were too many for them. It was then their turn to fall 
back ; but still they waited patiently about. They sat upon 
my head, shoulders, arms, and on the trees around me, 
singing ''Hold the Fort," and waiting for me to come out. 



304 MISCELLANEOUS. 

But I Staid in until I got out of the woods, and meantime took 
a find creel of trout. 

But these mosquitoes take the cake. They go for you at 
all hours of the day as well as night. They make hay while 
the sun shines. I have had my ears chewed in midday while 
walking in sunlight until they looked like a couple of saddle - 
rock oysters. I have had the back of my neck lacerated until 
it looked as if I had born the yoke of Egyptian bondage for 
twenty years. I have had my nose mutilated until it looked 
like a sun-burned potato. If you are so fortunate as to sleep 
under a mosquito bar, they waylay you until morning and 
assail you as you come out. You put some of them on with 
your shirt and drawers ; you put on some more with your 
socks ; you tie up a good many in your necktie, and button 
up a lot more in your pants and vest. Of course their useful- 
ness is destroyed, but they are there all the same. Then 
when you go to wash you rub some of them into your eyes, 
and some more into your ears. You go into the saloon and 
find them there also ; you drink them in your beer. At the 
table, morning, noon and night, they attend you. You eat 
them in your sausage, your corn-bread, and your gooseberry 
pie. 

They stick to you when they once get a hold, like molasses 
to a baby's face. You can't shoo them off; its no use trying, 
they won't shoo ; in fact, I never try, I make it a point to kill 
every one that I can get my hands on. I allow no guilty 
mosquito to escape. I have kept a careful account of the 
number I have killed since June ist, and it foots up exactly 
392,721,837,942, 4-11-44! Some folks may think this state- 
ment exaggerated, but let them spend a month in the big 
woods as I have, and they will be ready to make an affidavit 
to the truth of it without fear or compulsion. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 305 

Ah, mosquito, mosquito ! " Requiscat in pieces, non est 
cum eat us ! " 

MOSQUITO POETRY. 

*' He lights upon your head, 
A naughty word is said, 
As with a rap, 
A vicious slap. 
You bang the spot where he is not. 

He stops and rubs his gauzy wings; 
He soars aloft, and gently sings. 

He sits and grins. 

And then begins 
To select a spot for another' shot." 

The great rains and consequent high waters in Minnesota 
and Wisconsin in the early part of June have produced the 
largest crop of mosquitoes on record, or on earth, for that 
matter. The old man with the long memory, the far-seeing 
oracle, the o. h., has never seen anything like it. The mos- 
quito of 1880 is no larger than his ancestor, but he has sev- 
eral other marked characteristics that will keep his memory 
green in the hearts of his countrymen when the high winds 
of the North shall sing sad requiems o'er the graves of his 
defamers. His most striking peculiarity is, as Mrs. Parting- 
ton would say, his numerousness. 

Nomen illio legio, his name is legion. For days after the 
^' flood " you could look in any of the pools or ponds that 
you encountered at every turn and you would find the water 
literally alive with " wrigglers" — the larvae of the mosquito. 
In due time they got ripe. The myriads arose in their might, 
clothed in the glory of their full plumage, and are now mak- 
ing themselves felt as a power in the land. They recognize 
the truth of our national motto — " In union there is strength. ' ' 
They bite, not as the Chicago delegates voted, but all one 
way. They enforce the unit rule strictly. They are yet 



306 MISCELLANEOUS. 

young and ambitious, each one anxious to distinguish himself 
by spilling more blood in his country's cause than his fellow, 
they are as industrious as though laying up stores of human 
gore for winter use. They have an appetite like a boy who 
has just got home from school, or like a true sportsman who 
has been shooting ducks all day and hasn't killed any. This 
little cuss is very familiar on short acquaintance. In fact, he 
don't wait for an introduction at all. As soon as he meets 
you he pounces upon you and bores for oil. 

His body is made of India-rubber, Goodyear's patent, so 
that it expands to any size desired, and it is put together in 
sections like a telescope, so that it will pull out to hold all the 
blood he can get. He can stand more blood without crying 
^'nuff," than any bruiser in the prize ring. 

I concluded the other day to go trout fishing. I went, 
and I shall never forget that day's fishing. A friend had 
given me a prescription for a wash that he said would keep 
them off — the mosquitoes I mean, not the trout. I went to 
the drug store and got a bottle of the mixture. It was oil of 
tar, oil of pennyroyal, oil of cedar and castor oil. With this 
vile decoction I calsomined my countenance until I resembled 
a cross between a Malay negro and a Digger Indian. ''In 
this coat of mail," said I, "I can defy the blood-thirsty 
cannibals." 



^Rustlings, in the Rockies^ 



Hnnting ani Mm Stetches W loniitaiii and Stream. 

By G. O. SHIELDS. 

(COQUINA.) 
With an Introduction by Dr. N. ROWE, Editor "American Field." 

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED. 
12mo, Cloth, Over 300 Pages. 



Part I. Rustlings in the Rockies. 

II. In the Big Horn Mountains. 

" III. Ten Days in Montana. 

" IV. The Gulf Coast of Florida. 

" V. Miscellaneous. 



Lovers of all kinds of sport will be charmed with these pages. The Author 
tells the story of his various hunting experiences in such a genial, modest, 
pleasant manner that you are very sorry when the book comes to an end. You 
unconsciously catch the hunting fever, and feel like packing up rod and gun 
and starting away to the mountains. 

For those whom stern fate confines to the boundaries of civilization— who 
lack the time necessary for interviewing the bear, the buffalo and the antelope 
in their native homes, there is nothing better or more entertaining than a 
perusal of Mr. Shields' book. 

If you cannot rustle in the Rockies, you can read " Rustlings in the Rock- 
ies," which is the next best thing. 



For Sale by Booksellers, News Dealers, and on Trains. 



BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

:ptjelist3:ee.s. 



CHICAGO. 



A LIJCKT MISHAP, 

By EVA CATHARINE OLAPP, 

A Powerful New Novel of Modern Life, 

By the Author of " Her Bright Future." 



CLOTH, BLACK AND GOLD. 

The Author of this book made her debut as a novelist in " Her Bright 
Future," which was most favorably received. The present work is a novel of 
modern life, dealing very skillfully with one of the living questions of the day. 
The characters are graphically portrayed, evincing on the part of the author 
a deep insight into human nature. The story is full of interest from beginning 
to end, fresh and breezy as a March morning. The plot is intricate and subtle 
without being unnatural or wildly sensational. The dialogue is well sustained 
and piquant. The author is evidently of an ambitious turn of mind, and has 
ventured boldly but not unwisely into the domain of philosophy. 

Above all things, " A Lucky Mishap," is a healthful, inspiring book that 
may be safely placed in the hands of our young people. 

Eva Catharine Clapp is destined to become a favorite author with American 
readers. She has given large promise of better work to follow, and will no doubt 
take rank with such popular writers as May Agnes Fleming and Mary Jane 
Holmes. 



For Sale by all Booksellers, Newsdealers and on Trains 



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PECK'S BAD BOY 

AISTD HIS P^ 
By GEORGE W. PECK, 

Author of " Peck's Fun," " Peck's Sunshine," etc., etc. 
lustrated with Twenty Fall Page Engravings by Gean Smith. 



Cloth, black and gold. Paper covers. 



This last book from the prolific pen of George W. Peck, is 
beyond all doubt the great humorist's masterpiece. Peck's Bad Boy 
is a "holy terror!" He is full from top to toe of pure unadul- 
terated cussedness. He hungers and thirsts after mischief. No 
day passes but he invents and puts in practice some new form of 
deviltry. One such boy in every community would retard the 
march of civilization. One such boy in every family would drive 
the whole world mad. The bad boy's Pa may be a fool, but his 
hopeful son has succeeded in making his life a martyrdom. Every 
Saturday morning a hundred thousand people have sought the 
columns of Peck's Sun, to learn the latest exploits of the young 
scamp. The demand for " Peck's Bad Boy" in permanent form 
has been wholly unprecedented. There can be no doubt that 
this will be the most popular book of 188S. 



For Sale by Booksellers, News Dealers and on Trains. 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 

CHICAGO 



PECK'S SUNSHINE, 

By GEO. W. PECK 



Illustrated by Hopkins. 1 2mo. Cloth and Paper CoWs. 



OFFICE OF PECK'S SUN, 
Milwaukee, 1882. 
To Innocent and Unsuspecting Tourists : 

This is to caution you and i- ut you on your guard against the News Dealer on 
this train. He is a bold, designing person, who has a purpose. All of the 
oranges, and bananas, and vegetable ivory that he fires uown your neck is 
for the purpose of getting your mind in shape, so c.^. perpetrate on you 
the crowning act. When he gets your system in a condition such as he desires, 
he will offer you a book called ■-.. eck's Sunshine," and ., ju wll be so powerless 
to protect yourself that you will buy it. Then your troubles will commence. 
There is something about that book that will claim your attention and cause 
you to laugh out in meeting. You A7ill strike somei .ig in it that will make 
you forget what station you want i get off" ; , and you are liable to be carried 
beyond your destination, and have to walk back. The book is full of trichinse, 
and people have read only to go h,,me and send for a doctor, after it was ever- 
lastingly too late. The reading of ihe book seems to have a bad effect on every 
body. Fun is a good thing lu place, but where -t causes brother to rise up 
against brother, too much care cannot be exercised. I know of one young wo- 
man who had always led a different life. She was an exemplary Christian, and 
never missed a church sociable, o^ a Sunday school picnic. Her voice was 
alwaj's heard in the choir and the sewing society. A. man, little dreaming 

of the result, presented her with a copy of " Peck's Sunshine." She read it, and 
her whole being seemed to undergo a change. In les;s than a month she was 
married to the young man. I mention this as a terrible example. I am anxious 
to get the book off the market, so I can write another of a more pious nature 
The sale of this book has been so large that I f. ir much damage has been done, 
and I ask that you beware of the designing young man who offers to sell you the 
book, but if you insist on heaping coals of fire on my head, buy it, but be careful 
and not sit in a draft of air when you read it. That was what gave Henry Ward 
Beecher the hay fever. I am so anxious to stop the sale of the book that I will 
give a chrome to all who do not buy it. 

THE AUTHOR. 



For Sale by Bo^ ..^sellers, News Dealers and on Trains. 

BELFOED, CLAEKE & CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 

CHICAOO 



BILL NYE 



AND 



B O O M: K R A^INTG^ 

By BILL NYE. 
12mo. Cloth and Paper Covers. 



"i/i hoc usufruct mix vomica est.'''' — Virgil. 



This book deals largely with the singular scenery and peculiar people of the 
Rocky Mountains. It touches gently upon the Heathen Chinee, the gorgeous 
sunsets, the glad, free life of the miner, the meek-eyed hut deadly mule, the 
docile and timid red man, the abnormally connubial Mormon, and the mellow 
days of the long ago, when the song of the six-shooter was heard in the land. 

The book is ostensibly truthful, and the language is chaste and picturesque. 

It is not a work after the style of Herbert Spencer exactly, and yet there is 
the same gentle sense of creamy, soothing, languid, mysterious incandescence; 
the same opaque, unfathomable and breezy suggestion of unreliability, together 
with the general, logical and rhetorical effect of grosgrain perspicuity and im- 
ported delirium tremens which characterize the works of Spencer; still the 
reader will have no soul-destroying perplexity in distinguishing the features of 
difference between these two great men. 

It is merry, hilarious and rolicksome, and yet there is a vague suggestion of 
sadness in the mind of the reader when he gets through — perhaps a sense of 
impending evil, and a feeling of insecurity because the author is still at large 
and no effort is being made by the authorities to bring him to justice. Yet it will 
do an untold amount of good, for it will supersede the liver pad and porous 
plaster as a health promoter, while at the same time it will go squirting and 
squizzling its eternal truths and sunny little prevarications upon the broad 
highways of life like an intellectual street sprinkler; and times will improve, 
and the universal prosperity for centuries to come will be traced back to the 
day this work was turned loose upon the people. 



For Sale by Booksellers, News Dealers and on Trains. 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 

CHICAGO. 



HEAET AND SCIENCE, 

By WILKIE COLLIE'S. 



Cloth, Black and Gold. Paper Covers. 



This last new novel by Wilkie Collins is published from advance 
sheets, by arrangement with the Author, and is one of his 
most masterly productions, dealing with questions of current 
interest. 

Wilkie Collins has no living superior in the art of constructing a story. 
Others may equal if not surpass him in the delineation of character, or in 
the use of a story for the development of social theories, or for the redress of a 
wrong against humanity and civilization; but in his own domain he stands 
alone, without a rival. * * He holds that "the main element in the attraction 
of all stories is the interest of curiosity and the excitement of surprise." Other 
writers had discovered this before Collins; but recognizing the clumsiness of 
the contrivances in use by inferior authors, he essays, by artistic and conscien- 
tious use of the same materials and similar devices, to captivate his readers.— 
N. Y. Evening Post. 

THE NEW MAGDALEN, 

By Wilkie Collins, author of "The Black Robe," etc. Cloth, 
black and gold ; paper covers. 



THE BLACK ROBE, 

By Wilkie Collins, author of " Woman in White," " New Magda- 
len," etc. Cloth, black and gold ; paper covers. 
That Collins is without an equal in the power of constructing a story whose 

close it will defy an expert to foretell, which will please by its surprises, its 

pure, strong diction, and its dramatic power, has long been unquestioned.— 

Uica Herald. 

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BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 



CHICAGO. 






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